


The Pack

by ashinae, jay_linden



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Community: au_bigbang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-07
Updated: 2011-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 64,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinae/pseuds/ashinae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_linden/pseuds/jay_linden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Major John Sheppard shoots Colonel Sumner, he thinks of only one thing: keep the creature feeding on him from learning their secrets. He doesn't think that with that one act, he'll become Alpha of the pack in the Atlantis expedition.</p><p>That alone is weird enough, but John still has to navigate his new werewolf pack, military politics, witches, evil space vampires, Genii, and Replicators. There's the bonus complication of the grief, joy, wonder, and terror that is life in the Pegasus Galaxy. Add to that his frustration with--and maybe even feelings for--Dr Rodney McKay, and now the lone-wolf life John once enjoyed is even further behind him than it was the moment he stepped through the stargate and emerged in the city of Atlantis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For [AU_BigBang](http://au-bigbang.livejournal.com/). Thanks to [dwg](http://dwg.livejournal.com) for creating a [beautiful playlist and artwork](http://dwg.livejournal.com/1246716.html) and to [green_grrl](http://green_grrl.livejournal.com) for her beta work.
> 
> Follows the entire five-year arc of _SGA_. So: spoilers galore. While we have attempted to remain as faithful as possible to the canon, we have certainly taken some liberties (see: pairings above) and while respecting events as they have happened, we have also changed some to fit our purposes (see: werewolves).

This was not exactly John Sheppard's best day ever.

He'd become very good at minding his own damn business. He'd become very used to Antarctica. Frankly, he'd become very used to being very used to his life and not really wanting it to change. He didn't bother anyone, and no one bothered him.

But despite his hesitation, it had been difficult for him to outright refuse General O'Neill.

He figured General O'Neill probably wanted it that way, but John would certainly never-- _ever_ \--call the old wolf on that. But, really, he thought as Bates' fist cracked across his jaw--not the best day he'd ever had.

***

Back a step.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Atlantis. Please remain seated till the Puddle Jumper has come to a full and complete stop."

He'd felt pretty good about himself. Along with Ford, Teyla, McKay, Bates, and Dr Beckett, John found himself in the room that Elizabeth had claimed for her office. Nice and central in the control tower. Good view of the gateroom. John liked it. Not much to really call it exactly personalised yet, except for the pouch and chest that sat on the desk. Spell ingredients. Nice touch--a gentle reminder not to poke the witch too much.

They filled in those left behind on what had happened. About waking the Wraith. Agreed to let the Athosians stay with them in Atlantis.

There was an elephant in the room. John had thought maybe they'd have been able to avoid talking about it until they'd all had a good night's sleep.

But the elephant made an awful lot of noise. It looked an awful lot like Colonel Marshall Sumner. Maybe even smelled like him. John doubted that Elizabeth or McKay would have known enough to bring it up. Beckett might have, but it wasn't his place. Ford wouldn't have stepped on anyone's toes since he was just a kid.

Bates, though? Bates just had to go and make sure everybody knew about the great big, gaping hole in the pack.

The injuries Bates had sustained during his captivity were already almost healed, and although he had to be grieving the loss of his Alpha, it wasn't showing. "Thank you, Major, for taking charge of things while we were gone, and leading the rescue. I'll take it from here," he said. He turned to Elizabeth. "Considering the situation here in Pegasus, I think that some drastic rearrangement of the command structure is going to be necessary."

Elizabeth was startled. She looked from Bates, to John, to Bates again. "I'm sorry, Sergeant," she said, "but I don't see why that would be at all necessary. Major Sheppard is ranking military officer, and that leaves him in charge."

The look that Bates gave Elizabeth was incredibly patronising. "I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, ma'am," he said, as though she was very young, and very stupid. "Major Sheppard may be ranking military officer, but I am... I was Colonel Sumner's second. That means the pack is mine." It didn't, not exactly, but Bates knew the rest of the pack, and there was no one currently capable of challenging him for the Alpha position.

"That doesn't change the fact that Major Sheppard is the one with the appropriate military rank," Elizabeth said, straightening her posture just a little. John was impressed with her composure. "And it's only appropriate, given the number of humans amongst the military personnel here, that we honour the chain of command."

Bates wasn't interested in having this discussion with Elizabeth. "Due respect, Dr Weir? You're not military. It's not your call," he said, turned his back on her, and dismissed her. "Lieutenant Ford, I'm going to want to address the military personnel as a group--say thirty minutes from now," he ordered.

John was ready to just tune him out, really, but he felt someone watching him. He looked at Dr Beckett.

He suddenly remembered something he'd heard in passing. One of the reasons Dr Beckett was chosen for the expedition was that they needed a human--and a doctor--who knew almost as much about the werewolves as the wolves knew about themselves. Apparently he could trace the line of witches in his family as far back as was possible to go. And just by keeping his gaze trained on John, he was as good as daring him to speak up. To step up.

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant," John said, voice very quiet. "We'll take care of things tomorrow. I think everybody deserves to take the night and settle in. Get to know our new friends." He glanced at Teyla.

Ford looked between Sheppard and Bates, clearly uncomfortable, before he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. "Actually, Sergeant... I don't think it's as automatic as you're thinking it is, in this case." His voice was steady, despite the fact that he already knew just how well (not at all) Bates was likely to take this. "The Wraith didn't kill Colonel Sumner. Major Sheppard did," Ford said, looking over at Sheppard again. "He didn't have a choice--Sumner as good as asked him to do it--but technically speaking, Major Sheppard killed the Alpha. That means he has a claim to the pack."

Of course he did. That's exactly what John had felt back on the Wraith ship. The claim; the right to take the pack was his. Well, damn. Now he had to do something about it.

He lifted his head and looked right at Bates.

Bates was already fuming, lip curling back at the very idea of Sheppard taking over the pack--Sumner's pack. _His_ pack. He met Sheppard's eyes and didn't look away, staring right back at him.

"All right, gentlemen," Elizabeth said. She sounded mildly exasperated. John imagined she probably just thought they were about to get into some sort of pissing contest. "Maybe we can work out the details later."

John ignored her. He kept his gaze locked on Bates' and didn't blink. Not once. Stance relaxed; expression neutral.

He'd provoked older, more experienced wolves than Bates into thinking he was an easy mark just by seeming to not give a damn.

Bates took a step closer, starting to get into John's space. "You shouldn't even be here," Bates said, his voice low. "You're not pack. You have _no_ right."

McKay moved away from Bates and Sheppard, very slowly. Whether he was moving closer to Elizabeth to keep her out of harm's way, or because he thought he'd be safer there, it was difficult to tell.

"But I am here," John said, quietly. "I'm here, and Dr Weir's right: I outrank you. Maybe you should get used to it." Out of the corner of his eye, John watched Dr Beckett step between the wolves, and Elizabeth and McKay.

Brave man.

"I don't think that's all that likely," Bates said, standing his ground. "Do you?"

John stared him down. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want the fight. "The pack's mine," he said, still not raising his voice.

Bates didn't break eye contact with John.

Not even when his fist cracked across John's jaw.

John let Bates hit him.

Let him land the second blow. Listened to the shouts of the humans in the room. Felt Bates's knee come up in his solar plexus.

But he didn't hit him back. Not even as they stumbled out the door.

Fight or die. He could fight; he could win. The pack would be his. Because otherwise, Bates would have to kill him to take the pack. It was, by all rights, John's pack now. If Bates wanted it, he had to kill John. The question was: did John want the pack?

He could have a home. A family. A pack. He didn't have to be a lone wolf anymore.

As Bates punched him again, he heard voices:

"We have to stop them," Elizabeth insisted. "This is insane, they could kill each other."

"We can't," Ford said, and there was a firmness, a surety, in his voice that was new. "This has to happen--they have to settle this, here and now, or the pack's going to fall apart."

"But we can't just stand here--"

"Yes, we can." That was Dr Beckett. His voice was gentle. John liked the man, despite that unfortunate incident with the drone and the helicopter. "Elizabeth, please. We just need to stay back and let them work this out. The pack needs an Alpha, and this is the only way it'll get one now that we've lost Colonel Sumner. I know this isn't easy--believe me, I know."

So: did John want the pack, or didn't he?

When he finally landed a blow of his own, it was enough to force Bates to stumble and fall down the stairs.

It seemed John wanted the pack.

The hit took Bates by surprise, and he hit the ground hard, his body sliding more than a couple of feet before he came to a stop. He forced himself back up onto his feet, snarling at John. He wasn't about to give up; not without a hell of a fight.

John took a few of the steps quickly, then launched himself at Bates, attacking furiously. By rights, the pack was his. By wolf law, the pack was _his_. He'd done exactly what Sumner had wanted, dammit; he'd done what he needed to do to keep the Wraith from understanding more about what Sumner was. About what they were. He was bound by duty and by forces far older than either of them to protect this pack.

It was about damn time he stopped running away from the things that called him.

When the fight started, there weren't that many people around, besides the ordinary crew staffing the gateroom. The longer it went on, the more people started showing up. Specifically, the more wolves started showing up.

(Most of the humans and witches at least had the sense to stare down from a reasonably safe distance, if not remove themselves entirely.)

Bates was bleeding now. A wide gash across his forehead dripped blood into his eyes. He wiped at it, trying to clear the blood away. Some part of him must have been realising that it wasn't healing as fast as it should be. At least, not as fast as it should be if he were truly the Alpha. Which just made him more angry and intensified his counterattack on John.

The wolves were called by their Alpha. John knew that. He knew it was _him_ and dammit all to hell, Bates needed to stop. Whether any of them wanted it or not, John had been chosen and Bates needed to stop before John killed him. He couldn't lose anyone else today. Bates had been a good second for Sumner--John couldn't afford to lose him. He was older. More experienced.

They might not be fighting as wolves, but John could still kill Bates if he didn't back down.

Bates' wolf had all but taken over, and Bates' wolf was nothing if not stubborn. He made stupid mistakes, letting anger and embarrassment overrule his judgment.

And as the fight wore on, John became calmer. Every blow he landed was precise, meant to break Bates down one little step at a time. That didn't stop the occasional growl that rose up in his throat; it didn't stop the snarl that escaped when Bates managed to land a damn good punch. But John was gaining the upper hand. One step, one move at a time. Until he had Bates on the ground, John's arm across his throat. All it would take was a twist. John didn't want that.

For a moment or two, it looked like that was exactly what it was going to take. Bates was breathing hard, and in pain, teeth bared as he glared up at John. Time spun out, and the whole station held their breath.

And then Bates broke eye contact, looked down, and tilted his head back. Bared his throat.

John waited just a moment longer before he moved back. He got to his feet and glared down at Bates. "Are we done?" he demanded.

Bates didn't get up. Like every other wolf on the station, he could feel the power coming off of Sheppard. He didn't like it. But he had no choice but to obey. "Yes," he said through his teeth.

"Yes, what?" John snapped.

If Bates could lift his eyes from the floor right now, there'd be murder in his expression. "Yes, sir," he gritted out.

"Better," John said. "Now get out of my sight."

Bates pushed himself up to his feet, biting back a sound of pain as he got up and walked out of the gateroom, nothing but the shredded remains of his pride keeping him upright.

John watched him go, then let his gaze do a sweep of the pack. All the wolves among the expedition team had been called to the gateroom by the power of their new Alpha; not a one of them met John's eyes. Finally he lifted his head and looked up at Ford.

And the humans. The witches. They looked frightened; all of them but Dr Beckett.

And then John's eyes fell on Teyla.

Oh. Damn.

***

There was probably a better way to go about talking to Teyla about the wolf thing. Elizabeth would likely have some ideas. But, well, John had made the first overtures of friendship to Teyla. He was going to carry through, even though he had so clearly been the one to scare her.

"Hi," he said, shifting from one foot to the other when he found her. "Can we talk?"

"Major Sheppard," Teyla said, smiling, but even more formal than she'd been the first time they'd talked. "Of course."

"Thank you." He guided her to a bunch of crates and sat down, purposefully forcing himself to look up at her. Everyone else was headed out to the city balconies. The Athosians were rather blissfully unaware of what had taken place in the gateroom. But John needed to explain things to Teyla.

And now that they were here, he had absolutely no idea what to say. Teyla waited for him. Very politely. Very patiently.

"What you... saw... between Bates and me." John paused. Damn, this was hard. "It was necessary. And I'm sorry you had to see it. But it wouldn't be right of us to keep secrets like that from you. As soon as the full moon comes, you'd find out anyway."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Teyla said. "Is this a tradition, among the warriors of your people, when a new leader must be selected?"

"Only for some of us. Not for the ordinary humans. But we're not all ordinary humans here." He looked down, frowned a little, then looked up at her again. "There's magic on Earth, Teyla. Some of us in the military--we're werewolves. Some of us get forced into it, for whatever reason, though most choose it. I did. A long time ago. It gives us long life, strength, heightened senses--we can change into... do you _have_ wolves in the Pegasus Galaxy?"

She shook her head, very slowly. "I don't believe we do."

John rubbed at his face, and proceeded to try to explain wolves. Then the concept of the bigger, deadlier werewolf. The magic of the full moon, and what it meant to be a pack. And his own new role as Alpha. After a while, she sat with him on the crates, and he turned toward her, one leg drawn up on front of him, the other still foot on the floor. Relaxed. Comfortable. Going from awkward lecture-mode into animated explanation, smiling at her, eyes bright. He'd never before met someone who didn't know about werewolves, witches, and the other fae creatures of Earth.

"But we still have to adapt to the new lunar cycle here," he said. "Tempers'll be short. I'll really have to work to keep the other wolves in check until the first full moon. I'll sense it before everyone else. That night, we'll all change. We'll be more animal than human. But after that, we'll gain control again. We'll be able to change at will."

"You are a complicated people," Teyla said, smiling at John. "And an honourable one."

"Complicated? Yeah, I suppose. I never really thought of us that way, but I've never known a life where we weren't like this. I'm... older than I look."

"Much as we have never known a world untouched by the Wraith," Teyla said. "Are all your people long lived, or just your werewolves?"

"Largely just the wolves," John said. "There are a few other creatures out there that live as long, maybe even longer, but... there aren't as many of them anymore."

"And now, the wolves here on Atlantis follow you."

He nodded. "That they do, and I gotta admit, it's pretty weird."

"Sometimes, the right decision is chosen for us, rather than what we would choose," she said, looking as though she was speaking from some experience.

"Yeah, I suppose so." He regarded her for a moment, then gave her a smile. "So I'm sorry for... doing that in front of you. I hope I didn't... I hope you won't regret coming here with us."

Teyla smiled back. "My people do not waste time on regret," she said, standing up. "But no. I believe we made the right choice, in coming here."

"Good. Wanna go celebrate with everybody else?"

"Yes, I believe so," Teyla said.

He stood and offered her his arm. "Let's go."

***

"Major! Major Sheppard!" As was often the case, one heard Rodney McKay before one saw him.

And of course, it was that much easier having a wolf's keen hearing. John paused, turned, and waited a moment or two for McKay to catch up. "Yeah?"

"Okay, so, it worked--I mean, I'm pretty sure it worked. There were lights, and it stayed on, so I'm pretty sure that means it worked, but I'm not completely sure that it worked, so I need to find out for sure," he said.

John blinked at him. "I--what worked?"

McKay was all but bouncing on his toes. "I could tell you, but why don't I just show you." He braced himself, and looked at John. "Attack me."

Both of John's eyebrows went up. "Excuse me?"

"Seriously," McKay said, beaming at him. "Attack me."

John blinked a few times, then shrugged.

When he tried to punch McKay in the face, all he got was a sore hand for his trouble. "What the _hell_ , McKay!" he exclaimed, his voice a rough and angry snarl.

McKay looked absolutely delighted. "It works! Oh my God, I thought it was going to, but it actually worked!" For the moment, he brushed past the part where John didn't have much of a problem trying to punch him in the face, because he was too impressed with the part where the punch didn't even come close to connecting. It just bounced off before it even got to him.

The pain of didn't last very long. After a moment, John tilted his head a bit and frowned at McKay. And then he said, "The gene therapy worked, didn't it?"

McKay beamed at him. "Like magic," he said, pushing aside his jacket to show a small, glowing green contraption on his chest.

John stared for a moment, then he met McKay's eyes and grinned broadly at him. "This is so cool."

"I'm pretty sure that the way this works, I'm invulnerable," McKay said, grinning right back at John.

"Well, we've gotta find out."

"What do you suggest?"

"We need to build up to the more risky things," John said, thoughtfully. He stepped closer to McKay to urge him to walk down the hallway with him.

He could smell someone on McKay. He brushed that thought aside; they were all in pretty close contact with everyone else right now. It didn't matter.

"Maybe I could try shooting you."

McKay's eyes got big, then bigger.

And then he grinned.

***

John didn't know all the members of the expedition well enough yet to be able to tell all of their distinct smells apart. He knew McKay, Teyla, Elizabeth, Ford, Bates, and Dr Beckett. But he occasionally still got some of the others' names wrong, so recognising smell wasn't exactly to be expected. Except that he did expect it of himself.

So it frustrated the hell out of him, just before he shoved McKay over a balcony, that he could smell someone else on McKay, but he didn't know who it was.

***

"So do you want to see?" John asked Teyla over breakfast. "The cycle here's different--I mean, the length of the day is different than on Earth and everything, but we figure, two more days. If you want to see."

Even he hadn't been able to change since they arrived. The full moon would help. Ford equated it to 'rebooting'. John kind of liked the analogy.

"It'll be all of us. The others would all be kept separate, but I'll be safe." John grinned at her, a little bit of shyness around the edges. It was weird, being with someone who just didn't know. You could explain it till you were blue in the face, but Teyla still didn't really _know_.

"You truly want me to be there to witness your change?" Teyla asked, watching him carefully.

"Yeah, I do," he said, nodding slowly. "You're part of my--" He carefully bit off the word 'pack'. He figured neither of them was exactly ready for that. "You're part of my team," he concluded. "You should know what it's like for Ford and me."

"Then I would be honoured," Teyla said, smiling back at John, and nodding once.

"Thank you. Besides, I could use the company for the night. If you don't mind. It'll help keep me... focused."

"I'm not sure I understand, but I'll be glad if I can help you in any way," Teyla said.

"The way I figure it, we're all going to be confined to quarters this first time. Not that I'm not used to being alone, but being Alpha, I'll be a pretty strong draw for the others if I start to act up. You're a calming presence, Teyla. I..." He trailed off, looking just past her left shoulder. She trusted him. He trusted her. He'd staked a claim on her. He didn't know how to say any of that. He looked at her face again, into her eyes.

She nodded, just once. "I trust you, Major Sheppard. I will be there."

***

John resisted the first change on Atlantis.

His skin itched. He was restless. He paced his quarters. He wasn't afraid of violence; if he had been, he wouldn't have asked for Teyla's help. He wouldn't cause any harm.

But he knew it would hurt. The pain hadn't been an issue for him for a very long time, but his behaviour today had reminded him starkly of the first few years after the initial change. Before he developed the fierce control he had over the wolf.

He turned his back to Teyla and took off his shirt. It was closer now. He rested his hands on his desk, lowered his head, and fell perfectly still for some time.

The low, keening whine built from somewhere deep inside him. It became a cry of agony before it was all through; he could hear that cry echoed from elsewhere. The others were beginning to change, too. When it was over, he sank down to the floor, panting, tongue lolling out of his mouth, and looked up at Teyla. He whined.

Teyla stayed very, very still. Being around large predators wasn't exactly unknown to her, and she knew that showing fear was never a good thing. And yet, she wasn't afraid. She looked back at John and stayed very calm and very composed. Very Teyla.

Another few moments passed, and then John got up to his feet. He was still tall, long, lanky, and his dark fur was absolutely wild. Not unlike his hair. He padded over to her, peered up, then nudged his head against her hip.

She smiled. "Hello there," she said softly. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

His great, bushy tail wagged back and forth. He liked her voice. She made him feel safe. He was more wolf, now, than Sheppard. As time progressed and he became used to the lunar cycles, he'd have control over the change; over himself; over the rest of the wolves. His new, very large pack. But for now, he was a wolf. Tamed enough.

He licked her hand. She was his.

***

"You look exhausted, Lieutenant." John put his tray down on the table across from Ford's. Unlike pretty much every other member of Atlantis' pack, John at least looked like he'd had some sleep last night. Which he had, with his head on Teyla's lap the whole time.

"I am, sir," Ford admitted. "It was rougher than I'd expected."

John nodded. "Yeah, on me too. It should get easier from here out. I never did ask you--just how long have you been a werewolf?"

"Not long, sir," Ford said. "High school. Actually..." he looked a bit sheepish, "prom night."

"You really are a pup," John said. "I thought so. And I'm about to make your life even more difficult."

Ford looked embarrassed, and then wary. "What did I do?" he asked cautiously.

"Bates was Colonel Sumner's second," John said. "But I didn't choose him for my offworld team. I chose you. I want you to be my second, Lieutenant."

His eyes went huge and wide as he stared at John, before he finally broke eye contact. He knew better than to stare down the Alpha. "I... me?"

"Yes. You. You have more experience through the SGC. I'm going to need you. Bates is still angry about Sumner. I don't need that in my second."

"He's not going to like it," Ford said, pointing out the obvious. Which ,if he'd been thinking about it, was kind of the role of a second.

"No, he's really not. Like I said, making your life difficult. You okay with that? I'll keep him in line, but things are gonna be rough for a while."

"I can handle it," Ford said, straightening his shoulders and looking stubborn.

John grinned. "I know you can. That's why I picked you. I'll make it official after breakfast. Dealing with pack business seems easier on a full stomach." He dipped his spoon into his oatmeal, then fell very still.

McKay had wandered in with Elizabeth. John's eyes were drawn immediately to McKay.

Ford looked over at what--who, it turned out--John was looking at, then looked at John again, curious.

John still hadn't exactly figured in how to slot McKay into his life. Elizabeth and Dr Beckett, he already knew, were powerful enough. Teyla was, well, Teyla. A leader. A warrior. A calming influence. Ford's position was all but cemented now. Then there was McKay. The decision for McKay to be on John's team had been a joint one, though John had resisted at first. Just enough to save face, but not enough that Elizabeth would turn him into a toad or something.

He watched them get their trays. McKay ate more than Elizabeth. They sat down with Dr Beckett. John finally blinked again and actually started to eat.

So Ford wasn't the only one whose life was suddenly more complicated.

***

The Wraith were a problem.

That was, of course, putting it mildly. But any creature that could toss a werewolf around? Problem.

Adding insult to injury was the fact that, right at that very moment, there was a bug roughly the size of a Jack Russell terrier attached to John's neck. And he couldn't move.

He was, in a word, stuck. With a bug attached to his neck. A Wraith had left him alone--just walked away from him as if he was already dead.

All he could do was wait and hope that one of his team found him.

***

There was a difference between an order, and an _order_. Enough that sometimes, you could make your own choice. John's direction to head to the jumper was loud, but it wasn't couched as an actual order. Which gave Ford all the leeway he needed to come back when he'd been gone for too long.

He came running back into the clearing with his weapon up, almost skidding to a halt when he saw him on the ground. "Major!" Ford dropped down beside him, stared at--"What the _hell_ is that?"

"I don't know," said John from between clenched teeth, "but get it. the hell. off me."

"Okay--okay, just hold still," Ford said. He dropped back onto his knees and braced himself before he grabbed the creature with both hands and tried to pull it off.

John howled in pain. The thing was not coming off. "Do something!" he shouted, as if Ford wasn't valiantly attempting to help him.

Ford's eyes were huge, and getting bigger all the time. He wasn't Sheppard, but he was _strong_ , and if he couldn't get this thing off... "Teyla--Dr McKay--I need you back here, the Major's hurt," he said into his radio, trying hard to shove down his fear as he reached for the knife on his belt.

"Get it. Off me," John snarled. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything. He was a predator, dammit, and this thing--this wretched thing--had him down. He wasn't dead--but something told him it was only a matter of time.

He was pretty sure it was eating him, very slowly.

"I'm trying, sir, but it's not letting go," Ford said, centring himself and (carefully) trying to cut it off. Nothing except a lot more pain, and a lot more screaming from the Major. Burning was just as bad, and his ears were still ringing from the attempt to shoot it off--from the screams, not the gunshot. By the time Teyla and McKay arrived, Ford was in a complete, if silent, panic.

McKay stopped short, eyes wide in horror.

John closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at each member of his team. His team. His brand new team. And already they were in a whole hell of a lot of trouble. Finally, he met Ford's eyes. "Lieutenant."

Ford stared back for a moment or two, then lowered his eyes, shoving his panic down as much as he could. It wasn't much. "Yes, sir."

"I need you to calm down. Okay? The best way, right now, for you to help me is to calm down. I can smell how scared you are, and that's just making it worse." Then John looked at Teyla and McKay. "That also goes for the two of you. Okay? Markham's gonna need to not be completely freaked out when he's trying to fly us back to the gate, and trust me, he's gonna be able to smell how afraid you are."

Ford took another deep breath and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"We can't take that back with us," McKay said, coming closer, despite his complete horror at the _thing_ attached to Sheppard's neck. "We have to get it off."

"I've tried--it's stuck," Ford said, voice sharp.

"It's stuck," John affirmed, "and I think we don't have much choice. There are still Wraith around here and the rest of you are not safe. So here are your choices: you leave me or we go together. Because whatever the hell this thing is?" He locked eyes with McKay again. "I'm also stuck human."

"We are not leaving you behind," Teyla said firmly.

"Of course not--that's ridiculous," McKay said immediately. "But we have to do _something_."

"We have to get him out of here," Ford said. "There's no way they haven't heard all the noise."

John was scared. He didn't remember the last time he was so scared. He looked up at them. "Get me out of here. Markham and Stackhouse are probably more than a little concerned about where we are."

Ford nodded once, and got to his feet. "Teyla--you take our six. Dr McKay, you've got point--keep your weapon drawn, and keep your eyes open," he ordered. He handed John's gun over to McKay, then lifted John easily and put him over one shoulder. It'd hurt, but Ford could move faster, and still handle his gun with one hand.

"You want me to go first? I can't go first, first is who gets _shot_ at!" McKay protested.

"We're running back the way we just came. Did you see any Wraith?" Ford didn't wait for an answer. "So there probably aren't any now, at least not if you keep your mouth shut and _run_. Or would you rather cover us from behind?" he asked, gesturing toward the trees below... and the sound of cracking branches from many booted feet.

McKay didn't say another word. He just turned and started heading for the jumper. Fast.

***

When push came to shove, McKay pulled through. Twice now, even.

It would probably be unfair, maybe even a little mean, for John to admit he was surprised.

But, well--he was surprised.

***

Ford had a headache. Not uncommon when faced with Bates in full stubborn mode, but still very, very irritating.

"It's inappropriate for the major to have both an outsider _and_ his second on his team," Bates insisted.

"You know... you've said this before," Ford said. "More than once. Maybe you should just let it go."

"I won't let it go. It's inappropriate. Having both of you on the same team is asking for trouble."

Sheppard and Ford had spent a lot of time and energy working out the best ways for Ford to deal with Bates. He was glad for the practice now. "I'm touched by your concern, Bates."

Bates stopped cold for a moment. "Touched... by my concern," he echoed.

"Well," Ford said, being ever so logical, "if you were really the threat that some people say you are, as far as your intentions to try and take over the pack, you wouldn't say anything, would you? You'd just keep your mouth shut, and hope that we'd all get ourselves killed. Then you'd be rid of all of us, and free to take over. So it's really gratifying to know that you're so concerned for the safety of your Alpha and his second."

Bates clearly did not know what to do with any of this.

"So that's really good to know," Ford said. "Are we done?"

"You're done," said another voice from behind Bates. John leaned in the doorway, watching them with as close to a neutral expression as he could muster.

"Sir," said Bates, turning to look at him, "it's my duty--"

"You've done your duty. You don't trust Teyla, you don't like me, you don't like Ford being my second. And you're done."

"I was just about to explain that to Sergeant Bates, sir," Ford said. He'd known John was there. He was pretty sure that Bates hadn't, though. Seriously--for someone who thought he had it in him to be Alpha, his situational awareness was for shit sometimes.

"Good," said John, before Bates could reply. "This is the way I'm doing things. If you don't like it, Sergeant, you're more than welcome to go home. Oh. Wait."

Bates scowled at him. "If you'll excuse me, _sir_."

John waited a brief moment before he nodded, then stepped aside to let Bates leave.

Ford managed--somehow--not to laugh at the look on Bates' face when John reminded him that he was stuck here. It wasn't easy, though. He stayed where he was until Bates had left and was out of earshot. "He's not giving up," Ford said. "It's almost like he's stubborn or something."

"Imagine that." John said threw himself down onto a chair.

"He's gonna challenge me, one of these days," Ford warned. "He's still smarting from you taking him down, but he is going to come after me."

"So you take him to the floor," John said.

"That easy, is it, sir?" Ford said dryly.

"Yeah." Suddenly John was on his feet again and he crowded himself against Ford, arm around his shoulders. "C'mon. Snack time. Pack business makes me hungry."

"So does paperwork," Ford said, letting John lead him along. "And weapons training. And running. And teasing McKay."

"Also breathing," John added with a little laugh.

"That too," Ford agreed, laughing too.

***

The first time John woke up curled around Ford, he promised himself it wouldn't happen again.

The second time it happened, he swore that there wasn't going to be a third time, and Ford was a very naughty pup indeed for seducing his Alpha.

After the third time, John resigned himself to his fate.

After all, Elizabeth didn't seem properly receptive to his (admittedly highly tentative) advances; Carson seemed to be (sadly) entirely heterosexual; Teyla could kick his ass and seemed to regard his (somewhat awkward) flirting as either harmless or _cute_ , and McKay was most definitely sleeping with someone because he constantly had some other smell all over him.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, then.

In a distressingly short amount of time, John had accomplished the following:

1) Introduced C4 to the Pegasus Galaxy.  
2) Gone on a mission that made them some new enemies, not by anyone's fault but said enemies--sometimes enemies were very unreasonable.  
3) Realised that the other scent he kept smelling on McKay was that of Dr Peter Grodin.  
4) Not killed Dr Grodin.  
5) Not shoved McKay against a wall and bit him.

"At least I didn't tell the Genii I'm a werewolf?" he offered up, ever-so-helpfully, to Elizabeth. He couldn't quite manage the charming little smile he reserved for when he was in really deep shit.

Elizabeth didn't smile. Not even the slight lip-twitching not-a-smile that she usually reserved for when John was in really deep shit. "I sent you out for _food_ ," she said, slowly and deliberately. "You do remember that the initial goal was to increase our food supply before we get to the point of rationing."

"You know, if the Athosians know of a planet with a lot of small, furry animals, Ford and I could bring home a whole lot of food in just a few hours," said John. Still trying to be helpful.

"Unlike the werewolf population of Atlantis, the other two-thirds of us aren't going to be able to survive on a diet of Pegasus _weasels_ ," Elizabeth said, shooting a frosty glare at him.

"I was thinking more of rabbit," John said.

"Major Sheppard?"

Oh, he should have stopped talking a while ago. "Yes, Dr Weir?"

"Leave my office. Now."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, quickly, turned, and scurried away. Well, he scurried while trying to look like he wasn't scurrying, and wasn't exactly successful, and he just sort of kept right on walking until he suddenly realised he had no clue where the hell he was.

"Well, crap."

Okay, this wasn't the first time he'd ever been lost. He took a quick sniff, then turned around. He could smell people. He'd just follow his nose back to the people.

He had no idea, sometimes, how the hell he'd manage around this place without the werewolf senses.

He heard a familiar voice after a minute, and grinned, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Maybe he could convince McKay to play that game with him for a while.

And there he was. With Dr Grodin.  
The growl bubbled up, unbidden, in his throat, then John turned and wandered away again.

Within minutes, he found Ford. Cornered him in a quiet corridor, crowded him against the wall, and growled at him.

Ford? Never really needed all that much convincing--it'd been John who was the initial hard sell. That one growl and a good shove was all it took to get him on board.

***

Bates' challenge to Ford's position as Major Sheppard's second was inevitable. What was less inevitable (at least according to Bates, if the look of shock on his face was any kind of indication) was the way that Ford completely and totally put him down, about two-point-five seconds into Bates' attack.

It didn't make Bates like Ford--or Sheppard--any more. But it did get him to shut up. For a while, at least.

***

The storm couldn't be prevented magically. Carson and Elizabeth weren't powerful enough to put a dent in it. McKay, always so eager to help, pointed out that even a witch as powerful as Daniel Jackson was wary of screwing with Mother Nature outside of perhaps encouraging a crop to grow a little better.

The thing was, because Elizabeth couldn't do anything magically about the storm or at the grounding stations, she'd left all her supplies in her desk.

There was no way to get at them once the Genii took Elizabeth and Rodney hostage. Carson, as a born witch, could use magic without any sort of aid--but he was on the mainland. Elizabeth was self-taught; she needed those supplies.

***

"Sir?" Ladon Radim's voice was barely audible through Kolya's radio, but even to Elizabeth's ears, he sounded... not quite scared, but maybe as close as a soldier might allow himself to sound. He'd passed anxious already. "Commander, there's something going on."

Kolya looked impatient as he spoke into the radio. "I told you not to contact me unless it was urgent. Is this urgent?" he demanded.

"You should listen to this, sir." There was a pause. And then there was no doubt about the next sounds that issued forth from the radio. Elizabeth didn't have to guess at anything.

" _What is it?_ " (Screaming.) " _Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!_ " (Horror.) " _It's got me. It's--"_ " (Agony.)

Elizabeth shifted closer to Rodney.

Rodney's face went even paler than usual. They both knew exactly what they were listening to. And they both knew that they couldn't tell Kolya what they knew.

Kolya listened, expressionless for the first few moments, then slowly furious.

"Sir," Radim said, just over the screaming, "our people are being slaughtered."

"Fall back," Kolya snapped. "Get everyone out of there--tell them to fall back!"

There was more screaming. Then shouting--those left behind in the control room. "Commander, we just lost another team." This time, it was Sora. "Ladon's getting everyone else back to the control room. We have no idea what it is that's out there. But, sir, we keep losing track of Major Sheppard."

Rodney looked over at Elizabeth again, then went back to fixing the grounding station and not-fixing the grounding station while pretending to fix the grounding station at the same time.

"What do you mean you keep losing track of him?" Kolya demanded, turning away from Weir and McKay. "You told me that you could use the sensors to track him."

"He disappears completely," Sora said. "He's there, and then suddenly he's gone. When the sensors pick him up again, he's moved-- _fast_."

Kolya slowly turned back to look at McKay. "What's he doing?"

Rodney wiped water out of his face and glared at Kolya. "How the hell should I know?" he snapped. "Look--most of the systems are powered down because of the plan to save the city, and we're in the middle of a giant _electrical_ storm. Nothing's working the way it's supposed to. You're really going to rely on the sensors at a time like this?"

Rodney was actually rather impressed with himself. For a guy as bad at lying as he admittedly was, that wasn't bad.

***

Prey.

John couldn't actually remember the last time he considered himself a man before he considered himself a wolf--a hunter. A predator.

He was silent on his feet. He hid his clothes and equipment in hidden wall panels and became the wolf; the wolf couldn't activate the hand-held sensor to find each team of Genii soldiers. The man couldn't kill as quickly as the wolf could and hurry on. Men fell to his fangs and claws. They screamed as they went down. Team after team. He tasted their blood; moved on when he was certain they were dead. It didn't take long. He went for the throat.

They screamed when they saw him come out of the dark. He liked the way they screamed.

His prey had invaded his home. Violated its halls. Stolen from him. They didn't have much time to regret it before he snuffed out their lives.

Prey. Up ahead. He could smell them now.

He didn't make a sound when he attacked. His prey screamed in agony.

***

They were alone. John couldn't smell or hear anyone nearby. McKay was injured.

Maybe later, John could blame it all on the smell of blood still on him.

He pushed McKay against the wall. Pressed him there tight with his body. John was pretty sure his socks were still kind of damp, and it had been a long, long day. But the city was saved, the Genii were gone, and John was relieved.

Relieved, but still territorial. Dangerous. He breathed hard as he pushed his hand against McKay's shoulder, ducked his head. Smelled him. McKay. His.

McKay hit the wall with a loud 'oof', the press of John's body against him almost knocking the wind out of him. "Are you crazy?" he gasped, squirming once, then going very, very still.

John _growled_. Low. Deep. Angry. Eyes closed, still pressed up against McKay. He lifted his head a moment later, eyes bright, staring down at him. _His_.

He swallowed hard, and he still didn't move. "Major?"

The voice got through to him. John pulled back. "McKay," he said, gruffly.

McKay swallowed hard again. "Right. Um. Hi." A pause. "Did you just smell me?"

"They cut you," John said, in lieu of an answer.

"I didn't like that very much," Rodney admitted.

"You smell like Elizabeth."

"I just spent quite a lot of time with Elizabeth, what with the running and hiding and being out in the rain pretending to fix things after being tortured."

John's hand remained on McKay's shoulder, fingers holding tight to the fabric of his jacket. They needed a shower. They needed rest. John couldn't seem to move. They'd hurt a member of his pack. He growled again.

"You know I'm all right. Right?"

John nodded slowly. McKay was walking. Talking. Quite okay. They'd only cut his arm. John stepped back. "Right," he said.

McKay hesitated, then reached out and touched John's arm. "I'm okay," he repeated.

John didn't look entirely convinced, but he did nod. Took a breath, then quirked a little smile at him. "Hungry?"

"What?" The shift in topic had Rodney confused.

"Wanna get a bite?" Yeah, talking about biting around ordinary humans usually put them on edge. John was hasty in making the clarification: "To eat."

"I... food? Yes. I... sure. Yes. I'm hungry," McKay decided.

"Great. Mess hall it is." John put a very firm hand on Rodney's shoulder to guide him away.

***

"No, Rodney," Carson said, "I will not turn Kavanagh into a snail, or a slug, or any sort of invertebrate."

"It's for the _good_ of _Atlantis_ ," Rodney stressed. "This isn't just for my own personal benefit, Carson."

Carson turned around. He was exhausted. It had been a very long day, and all he wanted to do was go find his bed, fall down in it, and let himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of the howling wolves. Now that he was used to it, he found it kind of soothing. They were out there, protecting them all from God knew what.

"Rodney," he said, "I can't. It goes against everything I believe in."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Please. That excuse only works so many times," he said. "One of these times, he's going to get us all killed, and when that happens, I'm going to tell you I told you so."

"Yes, of course," Carson said, stifling a sigh. "When we're all dead, you get 'I told you so' rights."

"Because I warned you."

"Yes, you warned me." Carson liked his bed. It was where he slept. He wanted to go there. They rounded a corner, and Carson stopped short, hand immediately going to Rodney's arm to stop him, too.

It really was very late. Carson had heard some commotion earlier, and whatever it was, had clearly wiped out the two wolves completely--the Alpha and his second. Major Sheppard was unmistakable, of course, but even now, the handsome brindled wolf form of Lieutenant Ford was somewhat startling. They were curled up together, Sheppard using Ford as a pillow as Ford's paws twitched through some dream or other.

"Huh," Rodney said, staring at the two wolves, cuddled up together like... well, a lot more like puppies than like predators. "That's... almost cute. Ridiculously so."

"I wish I had a camera," Carson murmured, smiling. "I dated a wolf, once. Ages ago. They'll do that even when they're human."

"You? Dated a wolf?"

Rodney's voice was in danger of getting louder. Carson took him by the elbow to lead him away, lest they wake up the wolves. "Yes, I did. Lovely lass. Bit of a temper. I'm a witch, Rodney. Does it really surprise you that I dated a wolf?"

"Well, no, I suppose not," Rodney admitted. "You're such a monk most of the time that it's kind of hard to picture you dating at all."

"A monk?" Carson echoed in dismay.

"Yeah... like a monk... witch. A monkwitch."

"I'm not a monk," Carson protested.

"And the last time you dated anyone at all was... when again?"

"Ah--well. Before we came here. And you, Rodney? How many dates have _you_ been on since we arrived?"

Rodney's mouth opened, closed, and opened before Carson lifted a hand. "A date-date," he clarified. "Fuck buddies don't count." Remarkably, he didn't even blush or bat an eyelash saying that. He'd be proud of himself later.

Rodney's mouth closed again. Eventually, he said, "We weren't talking about me. And I'm not a witch."

"Is being a witch supposed to make me more... desirable?" Carson asked.

"No... just... you have options at your disposal that I don't," Rodney said.

Carson blinked a few times, then just _sighed_. "Again, Rodney: unethical."

"What's the point in being a witch if you're going to get all hung up on _ethics_?"

"We have a code we need to follow, Rodney. We--" Carson side-stepped two wolves who ran past at full-tilt, "we can't just use our powers to our advantage in everything. It's rather the way that most places in the world have their werewolves in the military. We're here to help, to protect--all of that. We can't just lord our power over ordinary humans, or we all become the monsters that we've tried to have everyone understand that we _aren't_."

"So you and the wolves can't just use your..." Rodney waggled his fingers, "special powers to make anyone and everyone do what you want? Or you can, but you don't?"

Carson looked sidelong at Rodney. "The latter, Rodney. We don't."

"So why was Major Sheppard sniffing me?"

Carson stopped walking again, but not because of any stray wolves. "Sniffing you?"

Rodney--so help him--blushed.

"Major Sheppard was sniffing you? When, Rodney? When?" Carson grabbed him by the arm again.

"Why? What? Why are you grabbing me?"

" _When_ did it happen, Rodney?"

"Right after the incident with the Genii in Atlantis... right after the storm," Rodney said.

Carson let go of Rodney and took a step back, blinking a few times, then sighed in relief. "You'd been injured," he said. "That only makes sense."

"No, it doesn't, so you need to _explain_ ," Rodney demanded. "Was he doing magic on me? You just said that you don't, because you're all _noble_."

Carson took a breath. So help him, sometimes he wanted to grab Rodney and shake him for the bizarre gaps in his knowledge. "Major Sheppard isn't actually capable of 'doing magic', Rodney," he said, ever-so-patient. "But he's accepted you as part of his pack, and I'm sure he was concerned for your well-being. He needed to re-establish his, well--" Carson grasped for the word, then finally just settled on: "dominance."

"Oh," Rodney said. "Dominance." He let that settle for a few moments. "So... that's what that was? Dominance and... concern?"

"I'm sure that's exactly what it was," Carson said with a firm nod.

"Then why was he..." Rodney's hand fluttered around the front of his pants, and then he shook his head. "Okay, I'm just... gonna let that go. Yes. Concern. That's what it was. Concern." In Sheppard's _pants_.

Carson blinked a few times. "Well, ah--I mean--that is to say--all things considered, we've all rather assumed he and Teyla..." He let the sentence go.

Now it was Rodney's turn to blink. Several times. "What are you _talking about_?"

"Most of us had assumed the Major and Teyla would... get together," Carson said, delicately. "It's terribly uncommon for an Alpha to choose a mate of their own gender. Although he's never exactly done what's expected of him, has he?"

Rodney stepped back so fast he banged into a wall. Hard. "I'm not--he's not--I'm-- _mate_?" His voice was getting very high pitched. Then he caught on something. "Hang on. Why _not_ me? Am I not good enough for the Alpha? I'm the smartest person in Atlantis, and I don't cheat with magic to do it."

"I assure you, Rodney," Carson said, with a genuine flare of anger, "that I did _not_ use magic to earn my degrees!"

But that was talking about Carson, and not talking about Rodney, so he waved it off. "What do you mean I'm not good enough for the Alpha?"

"I never said you're not good enough," Carson said, leaning against a wall. God, he was _tired_ , and arguing with Rodney just made it worse. "But the fact of the matter is that you're male, and we're out here all on our own. It would be different, I'm sure, if we were still on Earth."

Rodney looked like he wasn't sure he was ready to accept Carson's platitude, but in the end, decided to let it go. "Don't you ever sleep?" he said. "You look like shit."

Carson stared at Rodney for a long, long moment, then decided that when Rodney woke up, he was going to find himself covered in acne.

It's not like the Council would find out any time soon. Elizabeth would know, sure, and some of the others, but really--would they blame him?

***

Rodney McKay didn't wake up with acne. Halfway through the casting, Carson was overwhelmed with guilt.

He did, however, see to it that Rodney would wake up with one very large boil in a place that made sitting difficult.

***

John paced back and forth through the chamber, agitated. This had been a bad idea. He should have been the one above ground instead of Ford. Then he wouldn't have to be down here, smelling Peter Grodin all over Rodney and watching Allina flirt with him. And worse, Rodney was acknowledging her interest, and he was clearly _with someone_ and John let out a huff.

"Major. It will take as long as it takes." Rodney knew that huff. He knew it very, very well. Which was why he didn't even look up when he heard it.

***

Ford, on the other hand, was up top and bored out of his mind. He wasn't even sure that the Daganians _had_ weapons, let alone posed any kind of threat. No one had been on any kind of guard duty while they were breaking their backs digging holes in the ground, but now that they were actually close to finding the ZPM....

He checked a sigh, and looked down to check his weapon. He could hear McKay nattering away at light speed down in the hole. Maybe he was better off up top after all. Being trapped in enclosed spaces with McKay when he got going did lead to wanting to shoot him. And then they'd just have to break in a new scientist on their team, and that sounded like a lot of work.

When the first pinprick hit his neck, he just batted his hand at it, swatting at it like it was a bug. Probably some kind of mosquito. Just what Pegasus needed--more blood sucking parasites. When the second one hit, he grabbed, rather than swatted, and came away with the dart in his fingers. He stared at it, then jerked his head up, letting the needle drop to the ground as he lifted his weapon and started scanning the area. He was still on his feet, but his judgement was clearly being clouded by the drugs, because he didn't call out to warn the others.

He dropped down into a crouch, felt the air ripple past his cheek as a dart whistled past his face. Then they were coming from what seemed like everywhere at once, reflexes slowing as more of the drug--whatever it was--started sinking into his system. His weapon started to drift, even though he was trying to keep it up, he tried to call out, but now he couldn't. He lost track of how many pinpricks he'd felt as he collapsed to the ground, gun at his side.

He never really lost consciousness, even as he slumped to the ground. His head was spinning; he could almost feel the heat of the drug moving through his body. A few moments later, he heard footsteps. A lot of footsteps... more than one person... probably more than three.

"Did you kill him?" A dispassionate, and somehow familiar, voice.

"I don't think so. It shouldn't have taken so much to put him down though." A different voice, not familiar. Ford lay still, keeping his body limp. The drugs were already starting to wear off.

"You're sure he's out?" That familiar voice again.

"Yes, of course." A long pause. "Well. After that many doses..."

"Check him," the familiar voice ordered.

He forced himself to stay limp, not to react. Not until the man was right over top of him, touching him. That's when Ford started to move--fast. He grabbed the arm of the man checking his pulse and dragged him down to use as a shield, reaching out with his free hand for his gun, immediately shooting the soldier who was closest to him. He growled, arm wrapping around the neck of the man he had in his grip, keeping his body firmly in front of his own. His eyes were still unfocused, but not enough that it would affect his aim.

At least not until he noticed that there were more people than he'd counted--a full five of them--and they all had their guns pointed at him. He turned his gun so that it was pointing at the man he held in his arms. "I'll shoot him," he threatened. "Back off." It took him that long to recognize that the man standing in the middle, just over the body of the man he'd killed... was Kolya.

Kolya only hesitated long enough to smirk at Ford before he aimed at the Genii soldier Ford held hostage, and shot him, point blank in the head. The bullet went straight through the Genii soldier and into Ford's shoulder, making him drop his weapon with a howl.

"No," Kolya said calmly, gesturing for the rest of the soldiers to grab Ford. "I don't think I will."

***

John had been in the middle of pacing. He stopped dead. He heard the gunshot loud as if it had been in the room. The others heard it too, of course, but none of them had John's hearing.

It was the howl that made him shout. "Ford!"

Rodney's head jerked up, he abandoned the tiles and Allina, and ran over to look up the shaft. "What's going on--Ford!" he yelled.

Two more gunshots.

"Ford!" John shouted again as he reached the bottom of the shaft. "Ford, what the hell is going on up there?"

Kolya kicked the gun out of Ford's hand and gestured to the soldiers. "Tie him up--do it now," he ordered, voice loud. "Make it secure." He stepped over Ford's body and went over to stand just out of the line of sight near the shaft. "I'm afraid that Lieutenant Ford is currently indisposed," he called.

No.

"Kolya?" John called up.

"Major Sheppard... you remember me," Kolya said, still out of visual range. "I'm touched."

"If you hurt him, Kolya..."

"Define 'hurt'," Kolya said as he finally came into sight. "I'm not sure you're really in a position to threaten me right now, since you're the ones who are trapped in a hole, and I am not."

John aimed his gun right up at Kolya's face. "You make him howl like that again and you will regret it."

Kolya smirked, his own weapon aimed directly at Sheppard. "I'm sure he'll be all right," he said. "He seems to heal remarkably quickly. Now... why is that? We've been wondering for quite some time about the resilience of the Atlantean people. You look just like the rest of us, and yet you occasionally prove very difficult to kill."

John glanced quickly at Rodney, who had gone very pale, then up at Kolya again. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"No? Perhaps I'll just ask Lieutenant Ford," he said, stepping away from the top of the shaft.

"Kolya!" John howled. "Kolya, you stay away from him!"

***

Ford was tied up as securely as they could get him, had three bullet wounds in him, and he still struggled to get loose, despite the pain and the blood loss.

"Lieutenant Ford," Kolya said, smiling politely down at him. "How's the shoulder?" he asked, placing his boot right over the bullet wound and stepping down firmly.

Ford's scream split the air once again. He panted for breath, head swimming with pain as Kolya finally lifted his boot off his shoulder. He bit down hard on his lip, and refused to speak.

Kolya watched him for a few moments, then nodded to one of his soldiers. "Cut his shirt away--the leg of his pants," he ordered, gesturing at Ford. "We should check on those wounds, don't you think?"

Ford bit down hard enough to draw blood as the soldier none too gently cut away his shirt and pant leg. He knew... he knew what they'd find, and it wasn't going to be good.

***

In the cave below, John, almost shaking with rage, let out another loud howl. He needed to get up there. He needed to get up there to help Ford before they did so much damage that the wolf took over.

But John didn't even think that if _he_ turned wolf, he'd be able to jump up there.

"John--please, you must calm down," Teyla said, even though she knew perfectly well that telling an enraged werewolf to calm down was not really the most clever move to make. "We can't help Ford if you don't. _Please_."

John rounded on Teyla. "Calm down?" he demanded. "If they keep hurting him, he's going to have no choice but to--" He looked at Allina and bit down on the words. " _Kolya_! What do you want? You let him go and I'll give you our ship. I'll give you our weapons!"

"Major!" Rodney hissed, grabbing his arm and dragging him back. "You can't promise him that! You know you can't!"

The touch snapped something in John. He slammed Rodney hard against the nearest wall. He was vaguely aware that Allina had gone back as far as she could in the cave, clutching the tiles and looking terrified. "If they keep doing what they're doing," John snarled, "they are going to find out about _us_."

Rodney hit the wall with a loud 'oof', the wind almost knocked out of him. "I know that," he hissed. "And you're only making him more curious."

John released Rodney with a low, rumbling growl and paced away from him, only to suddenly point directly at Allina. He looked at Teyla and snapped, "And make her stop cowering like that!" The fear was distracting. It made John edgier than he had been this entire time; they must be approaching the full moon here on top of everything else that had gone wrong. If he continued to smell fear like that, he wouldn't be able to control the predator anymore.

Teyla gave John a _look_ \--she certainly wasn't scared of him--and she went to the the back of the cave, guiding the Daganians along with her and talking softly to them.

Even though Rodney was pale, he didn't back down, staying right next to John. "Just stop," he murmured. "Let me handle this."

That brought John up right short. It almost looked as if someone had yanked hard on his leash. "What?"

"Kolya just pisses you off, and he knows exactly where to twist the knife," Rodney said, voice still a low hiss. "They may not be hurting you like they are Ford, but if you keep letting him get to you, then they're definitely going to know what you are, because if my instincts are right, and they usually are, I think you're about one more flare of temper away from going all dark and fluffy on us. So just _stop_."

Fluffy? John bristled. But all he did was growl and stalk away, pacing not unlike a dangerous predator in a cage.

***

Kolya ignored Sheppard, focused entirely on Ford for the moment. "Interesting." Kolya looked down at Ford's stomach then crouched beside him. "You see... ordinarily with a bullet wound such as this, at such point blank range, you'd expect to see a lot more damage," he said. "This looks as though it's already healing. Can you explain that, Lieutenant Ford?"

Ford glared at him and bit down harder on his lip, refusing to speak.

Kolya kept watching Ford for a few more minutes, focused in on the leg and stomach wound. "Fascinating," he said. "It's as though I can see the wound closing on its own. Are you sure you don't care to explain that?" he asked Ford.

Ford licked at his bleeding lip. "Go to hell," he said hoarsely.

Kolya nodded once, then he moved quickly, taking the knife from the soldier who'd cut open Ford's clothes and slashing a deep cut across his thigh, just above the gunshot wound.

Ford's body arched up off the ground and he cried out in pain, despite trying to keep the sound stifled.

***

The cry made John fall very still again. His eyes were drawn to the shaft, to the sunlight, to where he knew Ford was hurting. His pack. His _beta_. His...

He closed his eyes. Forced himself to breathe.

Dammit all to hell.

His head jerked up and his eyes opened when suddenly he was aware of something being said: "They offered us a great reward, Allina. They agreed to let us keep the treasure if we just--"

The slap rang out nice and loud.

The ZPM. John went back to the shaft again. "They're no use to you, Kolya," he called up, hoping to distract Kolya and his men from Ford. "ZPMs only work on Atlantis."

"Now... how did I know that you'd say something like that?" Kolya said, coming back to within range of the shaft again. "I hope that you won't be offended that I'm not willing to take your word for it," he said. "Your Lieutenant Ford is astonishingly stubborn, incidentally," he said. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me what he won't?" he added.

When John and Kolya were in the same place, John was going to rip Kolya's throat out with his teeth. That'd be fun.

"Go to hell!"

"Interesting," Kolya said. "He said the same thing. I'll ask him again... see if he's more cooperative this time," Kolya said, slipping back and away from the shaft.

John's rage stilled his tongue. Finally. He stood there for a moment, then growled, turned away, and resumed stalking the cave. And shot the more-than-occasional glare at Sanir, just to make himself feel better.

A minute or two passed without anything loud enough for the people in the shaft to hear. Then a shot rang out, followed by a very inhuman sounding howl.

"Ford!" John was back into yelling mode. He resumed his place under the hole. "Let him go, Kolya!"

"Kolya!" Rodney yelled, positioning himself right below the opening to the shaft, right next to John. "Kolya--we'll do it--we'll find the ZPM, but we don't have it yet! We know where it is, but it's not down here, just _listen_!"

Nothing from Kolya. No response. No more gunfire, although out of nowhere, Ford screamed again, longer and louder.

Rodney looked over at John. "It's going to happen, isn't it?"

John didn't even get time to answer, because seconds later, they could hear the soldiers moving, running, a few shots firing. The next sound they heard wasn't a growl, or a snarl; it was a full-throated howl.

"Ford!" John shouted. He had absolutely no illusions at this point that the sound of his voice would help his beta, but he had to do something. "Ford, listen to me--get out of here! Run away!"

There was a loud snarl, and then the gunfire started again. Three shots in quick succession, and a loud yipe of pain, then nothing. Silence.

"No... no, no, no," Rodney murmured.

John couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. If only he'd killed Kolya in the first place. _Ford_. He could hear Teyla behind him, trying to keep the Daganians calm. He had a feeling it wasn't working.

Time passed. Seconds, minutes, it wasn't entirely clear, but for once, it was Rodney whose reflexes sprung into action as he tugged John away, just as Ford's body in wolf form was shoved down the shaft. He landed hard on the floor, and stayed motionless.

John didn't even think about it. He struggled as quickly as he could out of as much of his clothes as he could manage before he changed. If Ford woke up, he'd need his Alpha. He padded quickly to Ford's side and nudged at him with his nose, then heard something from up above and locked eyes with Kolya.

John bared his teeth and growled.

"Fascinating," Kolya said, but there was something hard in his eyes this time as he looked down at John. "And suddenly so many questions about what happened to my soldiers on Atlantis are answered."

Kolya's gun was aimed at John. Rodney started to move, to grab John's gun.

"I wouldn't advise that, Dr McKay." The other soldiers showed up just behind Kolya. Great. More guns.

"Fine. You've got your answer. Aren't you lucky," Rodney snapped. "Do you want the treasure or not? Because you won't find it without me, and I won't help you unless you release my team."

Kolya looked amused. "Dr McKay... you just keep getting braver all the time," he said. "Or at least more willing to put on a good show."

He gritted his teeth. "I am offering to help you," he said. "If you think you can find it without my help, please, be my guest. Considering that people have been looking for it for literally millennia, and I've gotten closer than any of them ever did, in a matter of days. But if you want to try your luck, go for it."

One of Kolya's men started to say something, and Kolya waved him off. "I want everyone's weapons and radios raised up first. Then the two Daganians, and then you, Dr McKay. Find us the ZPM, and you'll all return to Atlantis. Try anything, anything at all, and I bury your team alive. Do we have an understanding?"

"We do." Rodney didn't bother to look at John before he said it. "Teyla? Help me with the weapons and radios," he said, moving away from the shaft. He held up his hand when she tried to interrupt. "We don't have a choice," he said softly. "Hide what you can," he whispered, just loudly enough for her. She nodded, gathering the radios and larger weapons, managing to hide a few things in the dirt as she crouched down to pick things up.

John couldn't quite fathom changing back right now. It was hard for him to leave Ford's side, but Ford didn't appear to be ready to wake up any time soon. So John hurried to Rodney and Teyla, in helpful-wolf mode, except he got in the way a little more than necessary.

To their credit, neither Rodney nor Teyla snapped at him.

The weapons went up first, then the two Daganian women. Rodney waited his turn, face still pale.

"Are you sure about this?" Teyla murmured to him.

"Not remotely," Rodney said. "I also don't have a choice. Are you going to be--"

"I will be fine," Teyla said, cutting him off.

"Dr McKay, if you're _quite_ done?" Kolya's voice came from above.

"I'm coming," Rodney snapped. "Good luck," he said to Teyla, strapping himself in and looking at John. "Take care of him," he added.

John hurried to Rodney's side. He licked Rodney's hand, then stepped back and went to Ford, curling up protectively around him. He closed his eyes.

All he could do now was wait. Wait for Ford to wake up; for their opportunity to overtake the Genii; for taking the ZPM home.

***

In the end, two out of three wasn't bad, though really, three out of three would have been a whole hell of a lot better.

Because there was no trade-off. They didn't have a ZPM and the Genii knew about the wolves.

Oh, and then there were the hive ships.

Naturally, everything went to hell for a little while.


	3. Chapter 3

Ford was gone. Grodin was dead. Bates was returning to Earth and wouldn't be coming back. Caldwell had saved John's life. Elizabeth, John, Carson, and Rodney were going to head back to Earth on the _Daedalus_.

Everything felt wrong. John's skin itched. He arrived at Teyla's door in the dead of night.

"Come in," Teyla called. She always seemed to know when it was John.

He stepped inside. "You're awake?" he asked.

She nodded. She was seated on her bed, but the covers weren't down. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted.

John approached the side of her bed and almost sat down, then, as a polite afterthought, asked, "Do you mind if I...?" He gestured at the bed.

Teyla shook her head. "Of course not. Please."

He sat down. "I want to look for Ford," he said, "when we get back from Earth. Because we _will_ be coming back."

She nodded. "I know you do," she said. "And I know you will. This is your home."

"And you're my--you're part of my pack, Teyla. I'm going to return."

"You don't want to go, do you?"

"Not really, no," John admitted.

"But you need to go," she said. "It's important."

He nodded. "I know. Teyla, I no longer have a second or a third. And I have to go. You'll take care of Atlantis, won't you?"

"Of course," Teyla said. "And you'll take care of Rodney."

John grinned at her. "Of course I will. He needs it sometimes."

"More like all the time," Teyla teased.

"Well, yes," John admitted with a shy little shrug. "Teyla, I..." He paused. Hesitated. Didn't know what else to say.

She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. "It's all right," she coaxed.

He looked down at their hands, then at her again. Impulsively, he leaned in and kissed her. There was fire there. There could be--so much. She'd be a strong mate for him, powerful enough in her own right.

She'd make a fine wolf.

But John still burned for someone else. He pulled back with a little sigh.

Teyla touched his cheek. "It's all right," she repeated. "I know."

He blinked. "You... know what?"

"I'm not the one."

"You could be," he said.

"No," she said. "I couldn't. That isn't how this works. And your wolf has already made his choice."

"You've spent too much time talking about werewolves with Elizabeth and Carson," John said, with a soft sigh. "I really don't think McKay's at all interested."

"If you think that, then you're as blind to your senses as Bates was," Teyla said.

John stiffened a moment, then relaxed again. He shook his head. "No," he said, "I really don't think so."

"Because of Peter Grodin?" Teyla said.

"You knew?" John didn't know why he was surprised.

Teyla nodded, just once. "He was a good man," she said. "He was kind, and wise, and McKay misses him deeply." The fact that Rodney hadn't said anything didn't mean she didn't know. Teyla always knew these things. "He misses his colleague, he misses his friend. He misses his lover. But he's not grieving the loss of his partner, or love. His mate, as you wolves would say." She looked at John. "Just as you are not grieving in that way since Aiden has left us," she added softly.

John opened his mouth to reply then closed it. Then opened it again. "Oh," he said, after a moment or two.

"Yes," Teyla said gently. "I knew about that too."

"I'd gotten really good at being alone until all of you came along," John said, almost laughing, almost serious, almost accusing, almost a lot of things.

She smiled and patted his arm. "You came to us, Major Sheppard," she reminded him. "You came to us, and you brought hope. All of us have been changed by that. Including you."

He laughed and took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," he said, simply, since no other words seemed to be adequate. Especially not words he'd come up with.

Teyla nodded, her version of 'you're welcome'. "Don't think that I haven't noticed that you've moved away from the subject," she added.

He sighed. "With everything that's just happened," he said, meaning Grodin and Ford, "it doesn't seem all that... appropriate to do anything."

"I understand," Teyla said. "You will know when the time is right to do something. If you listen to your instincts, rather than your head," she added. "You know that he needs you, don't you?"

John blinked a few times. "He does?" he said, surprised all over again.

"Rodney needs someone who challenges him. Who stands up to him. Someone who knows how to let him be himself, and keep him from being too much himself," she said. "I believe that you are that person. And I'm not telling you anything you don't know, John."

He was quiet a moment, then nodded. "I know," he said. "I guess I just have to figure out what to do with it now."

She patted his hand, in an almost motherly fashion. "You will," she said confidently.

"You have a lot of confidence in me."

"I do," Teyla agreed. "You've given me cause, many, many times. So have confidence in me. Trust your instincts. Trust your heart. You will know what to do."

***

Lieutenant Colonel.

Had a nice ring to it.

***

The itch was almost unbearable now. John felt like he was burning. The _Daedalus_ moved too slowly. Most of its crew gave John a wide berth; only Caldwell really interacted with him in any way, and even then that hospitality was decidedly chilly. John decided he didn't give a rat's ass.

It took him about three minutes, though, before he rang the chime to Rodney's quarters on the _Daedalus_.

"Oh for... you have your _own crew_ , you know--I'm not going to fix everything on your damned ship just because I happen to be on bo--oh," Rodney said, stuttering to a stop after he opened the door and saw John there.

John stared down at him. Waited.

"I thought you were someone else," Rodney said.

"Yeah," said John.

"So... did you need something?" Rodney asked. "Or..." He hesitated, then pushed his door open wider.

That was a good enough invitation. John stepped inside. The door closed behind him. He pushed Rodney against the wall and pressed his face against Rodney's neck. Rodney made a surprised sound.

Here they were again. It'd been awhile. John growled and pressed his body right up against Rodney's. "I want you."

"I thought--I--you--Teyla?" Rodney managed to gasp out. Even as he pushed right back against John.

John's hands went to Rodney's hips and squeezed tight. "No. We're not right for each other."

Rodney moaned, then closed his mouth so fast he bit his lip, trying to stay quiet.

"I want _you_ , Rodney."

"Why me?" Rodney gasped. "Why not Teyla or Elizabeth, or one of the Marines?"

"You smell good, Rodney," John mumbled, rocking against him.

Rodney paused. "Was that an answer as to why you'd pick me over one of them, or are you talking about right now?" he asked. "Because I talked to Carson ages ago, and he said that you'd never pick me, and it was highly implied that I was not a suitable match, and yet here you are, and you're pinning me up against my wall and telling me I smell good, and I'm a little confused."

John growled and rocked against him again. "You talk too much, McKay." John really didn't _want_ to talk. "If you were female, I would never have hesitated. I'd have chosen you ages ago. You're more or less my equal number outside of the military." They needed to stop talking now. His teeth scraped across Rodney's neck.

"I'm not though--I'm not female, so does that mean... what does that mean? What... ohgod, don't stop moving," Rodney begged.

John wasn't about to stop. John was never going to stop. "You're mine," he said, against Rodney's neck, his voice rough. Ragged. Everything was absolutely ragged around the edges and his body felt like it was on _fire_. It had been way too long.

John felt it when Rodney shuddered. "John," he whispered, holding on tightly.

"Do you know," John said as he dragged Rodney away from the wall, "that's very likely the first time you've said my name? Have you been trying to keep me away?"

"Not exactly," Rodney said, voice rough and needy.

John guided him across the room to the bed. "Are you afraid of me?"

Rodney shook his head. "I wasn't trying to keep you away. I was trying to keep away from you."

They fell still just as the backs of Rodney's legs hit the bed. John held him upright. "Why?"

"Because Carson said that it shouldn't be me."

John was honestly surprised to hear that Carson would say such a thing. "And so you pushed me away." He growled again; low, angry.

Now Rodney was starting to look a little nervous. "That's... one interpretation."

"What's another interpretation?"

"That's the only interpretation."

"You're mine," John said. "I want you, Rodney. If you tell me now... I can still stop."

"And if I don't tell you to stop?"

John grabbed Rodney's wrist and drew his hand to his crotch. Crude, perhaps, but certainly to the point.

Rodney gasped. He swallowed hard and looked up at John. "Don't stop."

John's free hand went to the back of Rodney's head and he kissed him. Pushed his tongue into Rodney's mouth. Kept that hand pressed right where it was, rocked against it. He figured this wasn't going to last very long--not this time. Rodney moaned into John's mouth and his hand pressed harder.

John broke the kiss and dragged his shirt over his head. He tossed it aside, then reached for the hem of Rodney's shirt. Pulling it off meant he lost the glorious, warm contact of Rodney's hand, but it also meant that there could be more. Skin against skin. John felt like he was burning up. He must have felt that way to Rodney, too--he shivered, and John smiled.

More. He needed more. He growled again as he worked on getting them naked. His hands were unsteady, and he cursed in that same rough, ragged voice from before. He shoved Rodney down onto the bed, a little rougher than necessary, and lifted a leg to yank on his shoe.

Rodney pushed up on his elbows to look at John. "Push push, take take... you werewolves are such animals," he complained. "What happened to romance?"

"I'll pick you flowers on the mainland when we get home." John tugged off Rodney's pants, then his underwear, and made short work of his own clothes. He stared down at Rodney for a moment, spread out there, waiting for him, and he smiled. Slow. Predatory. "I'm an animal, huh?" He crawled up onto the bed and dragged his tongue over Rodney's belly.

Rodney groaned. Loudly. "Don't look so smug," he said, sounding breathless. "And don't think this means I'm gonna listen to everything you say either."

"I expect that we're going to spend a lot of time arguing," John said. His tongue found Rodney's nipple and his hand went to Rodney's cock, stroking him off with surprising gentleness.

Rodney arched up into the grip of John's hand like it was the first time he'd been touched by someone other than himself in a long time. Which John knew wasn't at all true, but he tamped down hard on the surge of jealousy. "Probably, yes," Rodney gasped out.

Yes. Oh, yes. This was exactly what John needed. He pressed close, wrapped around Rodney, found his mouth in another long, demanding kiss. And all the while, his hand kept moving, slow and steady.

He pushed back against John, arms moving around him, hanging on tightly. He kept moaning into his mouth, like he was still trying to talk.

"Damn, you're noisy," John complained a moment later. He crawled over Rodney and began to rock against him. "You just don't... shut... up."

"Like you didn't know that alre--oh--oh, more of that, don't stop," Rodney babbled, interrupting himself.

John licked over Rodney's mouth. Felt Rodney's cock against his own as he thrust against him. They could do more later. For now, John needed to be rid of the fire under his skin. Mark Rodney as his own.

Rodney babbled, but all sense had gone out of what he was saying now. He was down to just sounds--begging, pleading, needy noises--and he never, ever shut up.

The groans that rose up in John's throat were a little more wolf than human. He pushed one hand under Rodney's head and kissed him. Dragged his tongue over Rodney's cheek. Licked his neck; sucked his shoulder. His mouth stayed there as he moved, rocked against him--and his teeth scraped over Rodney's shoulder as he shuddered through orgasm.

Moments later, he felt Rodney's hips jerk under his own, heard his strangled cry, and John dragged his tongue over that spot again and again, then closed his mouth over it one more time. Sucked on Rodney's skin. He'd just come all over Rodney, but it wasn't enough. The mark wouldn't be permanent, but it would be there a while. John would know it was there.

John lifted his head and looked down at Rodney. "Mine," he said.

He looked up at John and nodded a few times. "Okay," he gasped.

John bit Rodney's shoulder, not gently, but certainly not hard enough to break skin. Just hard enough to hurt. "Say it."

Rodney groaned, all the way from his toes. "Yours," he said, licking his lips, and grinning up at John. "Bossy wolf."

***

John liked Major Lorne immediately.

Even more amazingly, Lorne liked John, too.

Noses were very out of joint when John made the announcement. Lorne had only been on Atlantis for about two weeks when he was made John's second, barring Ford's return.

Ford wasn't going to come home. Doctor Heightmeyer said John actually went through the five stages of grief.

But then there was Ronon.

***

"So they just... turn into animals." Ronon wasn't sure what to make of this. "But not all of them." He looked very much like he thought Teyla was making fun of him.

"Only some of them," Teyla said. "Only the ones who are werewolves. The wolf is their other self. Just as true as the human."

"This is the weirdest thing I have ever heard."

"Ever?" Ronon had been a Runner for a long time--she wasn't sure that was necessarily true.

"Maybe not ever. Lately."

"Fair enough," Teyla said. "They really are quite something. Very strong, very lethal. And very beautiful."

Ronon thought about that for a long, long moment. Then he said, "I'd like to see. Think Sheppard would let me?"

"I am sure that he would," Teyla said. "They allow those who they trust to see them changed." She smiled. "Also those they are about to destroy."

Now _that_? Ronon would like to see. Still, he said, "But they haven't been powerful enough to destroy the Wraith."

"The Wraith are many, and they are few," Teyla said. "In a battle on land, Colonel Sheppard and his people are almost always victorious. In a battle in space, the edge still goes to the Wraith, at this time."

Ronon nodded slowly. Took it all in, a bit at a time. Then: "And Dr Beckett and Dr Weir are witches, and there are other people who have... powers." He sat back in his chair, stretched his legs out in front of her, and fixed Teyla with a look. "Strange place you have here."

"It has its moments," Teyla agreed.

***

To add to John's list of favourite things (which included but was not limited to: football, ferris wheels, Johnny Cash, the way Rodney McKay tasted, and a good turkey sandwich)--running with Ronon Dex.

As much as possible, they did this when John was a wolf. Ronon felt it was a great challenge. To John's surprise and delight, Ronon could keep up with him.

***

John didn't like waking up to discover that Rodney was missing. He really didn't like discovering that Rodney had woken up in someone else's room entirely. He really, really disliked watching Rodney kiss Carson, even if Rodney wasn't in charge at the time.

He did, however, like the part where he got his Rodney back, even if it meant sleeping as a wolf under an infirmary bed for a few nights.

***

The entire base noticed when Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay weren't exactly talking to each other. That sort of thing happened when Rodney destroyed entire parts of solar systems. The Alpha was out of sorts--understatement--and Major Lorne stepped up admirably for the handful of days before John let Rodney back in.

Ronon proved to be damned good with the wolves. John wasn't surprised. They didn't get in his way, and they respected him almost as much as they would if he were Sheppard's third.

He hadn't known Ronon long--but then, he hadn't known Lorne long, either. John hadn't survived life as a werewolf so far without at least some halfway decent instincts. But if Ronon asked? John would do what he could to help him with the metamorphosis. There was no doubt in his mind Ronon would survive it.

And then John kind of turned into a bug. He couldn't heal; his healing abilities made it all worse. And the bug overruled the wolf. John couldn't escape it. He lost control. Up to that point, being paralysed by that Iratus bug had been the single most terrifying experience of his life.

Turning into one quickly knocked that down to second place.

***

Lorne smelled Teyla and side-stepped before they bumped into each other coming around a corner. He steadied her with his hands on her shoulders and gave her that easy smile. "Did you just come back from seeing Colonel Sheppard?" he asked.

Teyla nodded, smiling back at him. "He's doing considerably better, although I expect you knew that already," she said.

"Yeah. Just wanted to give him an update on things." Lorne rubbed at his shoulder. "Had a bit of a scuffle with Major Browne."

Teyla raised an eyebrow. "I assume that you won."

And then he grinned. Definitely wolfishly. "Yeah. I did."

"Dare I ask what it was about?"

"Colonel Sheppard being incapacitated, Ronon hanging about, something about Sheppard stepping down for Caldwell. I corrected him."

Teyla frowned. "He should know that's not how it works."

"One would think," Lorne said, wryly, flexing his shoulder again. "But he's young. Stupid young. Dare I say--a puppy."

"I'm sure he learned his lesson... even if it took a toll on your shoulder," Teyla said, teasing just a little.

"Yeah, and I'm not quite as young as I used to be," Lorne said. "Was the Colonel still awake when you left him?"

"Mmm," Teyla said, nodding. "And complaining about having to stay there. Dr Beckett might need you."

He smiled at her. "Thanks, Teyla. For keeping him company. I'll go help out. And if you bump into McKay, could you tell him that his presence would not hurt?" It seemed to pain Lorne just a little to say as much.

Teyla managed not to laugh--but only barely. "I'll be sure to let him know," she said.

He squeezed her shoulder, then hurried into the infirmary to badger his Alpha into staying in bed.

***

John figured it was probably a miracle that Ford agreed to talk to him privately at all. Or magic. Or something. Still, he was pissed. As soon as they were alone and well away from the others, he grabbed Ford's arm and forcefully turned him around before shoving him against the wall. "What the hell are you thinking?" he demanded. "Giving the enzyme to _humans_ , and then adding three more to that list by forcing it on my team!"

Ford pushed him back, just enough to break Sheppard's hold, then tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck. "I didn't," he said. "Well. I guess I kind of did," he admitted. "With your team, at least."

"They're _ordinary humans_ , Ford," John snapped. Well--maybe Ronon and Teyla weren't so much, but this was absolutely not the time to have that particular argument. "I need them."

"You need to relax, Sheppard," Ford said. "Your team, they're the second stage."

"Second stage?" John echoed. "What the hell are you talking about?" He was so not relaxing. He was in no way prepared to relax. In fact, right now, he was in full on fight-or-flight mode, and he didn't have anything in which to fly.

"To find out if it works on humans, now that we've got it really refined," Ford said.

"What, you couldn't use it on your own guys?"

He grinned. A lot. "They aren't human."

"What are they, then? Elves?" If Rodney'd been present, even he would have been impressed by _that_ sarcasm.

"No," Ford said. "They're werewolves. I've got my own pack now, Sheppard. You're not the only Alpha in the room."

"They're--" John took a step back, stunned. "Ford, what have you done?"

"That's always been the big problem, right? Changing werewolves, having them survive the transition," Ford said, looking excited and very, very proud. "Some people just can't do it. But when you shoot them up with the enzyme right before you change them... almost all of them survive."

"Almost? _Almost_ all?" John backed away another step, utterly horrified. "Ford, this is insane. You can't just run around the galaxy recruiting and collecting people to turn them into wolves. The Genii know about wolves now, remember? It's only a matter of time before everyone else finds out. Before the Genii or the Wraith or God knows who start working on anti-wolf weapons."

"That's exactly why you need the enzyme!" Ford said. "It keeps you going, takes away your resistance to weapons _and_ drugs. Believe me--we're not afraid of the Genii," he said smugly.

"And what happens on the full moon?" John demanded. "What kind of control can you possibly have? You're all puppies. Ford, the only reason you didn't run rampant through Atlantis at the full moon was because we either locked you away or you were with me. Turning a few people into werewolves does _not_ make you an Alpha."

Ford's posture stiffened as he tried not to get pissed off. It wasn't working very well. "It's my pack, and they're my wolves," he said, smiling at John, but showing his teeth while he did it. "I was the beta to the Atlantis pack. And I'm doing fine, thanks for asking." He turned to leave.

"This is a mistake," John said, softly, but knowing full well that Ford would hear every word. "And if any of _my_ pack gets hurt, there's gonna be hell to pay."

"You'll see," Ford said, turning back to John, confident and smug again. "You'll all see that I'm right."

John took another step forward. "Teyla and Ronon are pretty damn remarkable for humans," he said, "but do you really think McKay can handle this?"

Ford paused and looked back at John, his expression shifting to something much more dangerous, just for a second. "Guess we'll find out, won't we?" he said. "Get some rest," he added, starting to walk away again. "You'll all need it."

***

When Rodney put his hands over his eyes, John actually felt a little pang somewhere in his heart. This wasn't the easiest thing he'd ever done, not by a long shot, and watching Rodney get so torn up over all of this was making it worse. Dealing with Ford, dealing with Teyla and Ronon, dealing with Rodney--all the while, John had to keep his cool.

The one and only thing he had to give Ford any credit for was the fact that, at least according to John's instincts, the full moon was closer behind than closer ahead of them.

"Hey," John said, softly, as he put his hands on Rodney's arms, "it's all right."

"I'm sorry," Rodney said, voice muffled from behind his hands. "I'm... I just... I can't think. I can't think properly, and you know..." He trailed off, and leaned closer to John. "I'm sorry. I'm okay. We should go back."

"We will." John gave a little tug and let Rodney lean in as close as he wanted. "But not right away. Let 'em wait." They were just puppies, after all. John could deal with them if necessary.

Rodney moved his hands away and buried his face against John's shoulder instead. "Sorry," he murmured again. More proof that he really wasn't doing that well. Rodney didn't apologize for much, even to John.

John slipped one arm around Rodney's back; his free hand went to the back of Rodney's head. "Take your time."

"What if I can't do this?" Rodney murmured. "What if I can't fix it?"

"You can," John said. "I know you can. I know you and what you're capable of." He rocked him a little bit. He thought maybe Rodney needed it.

"You'd better hope you're right this time," Rodney said, starting to sound a little more like himself. "The last line in my biography is not going to read that I overdosed on space vampire venom."

"I won't allow that to happen," John said, his voice taking on that wolf-like growl it did when he got pissed off. He pressed his face against Rodney's neck. "You're mine and I'm not letting the space vampires get you in _any_ way."

"Well, since you've put it that way... I guess everything's going to be all right, isn't it?"

John's lips moved against Rodney's skin. They were most definitely not going to get up to anything out in the open like this and not when Rodney was in the state he was in, but John wanted to give him that little bit of reassurance. "Everything's going to be all right." He lifted his head and slid his hands up, onto either side of Rodney's neck. He could feel his pulse, too fast, too frantic, even for Rodney. "Because I said so. I'm the Alpha."

"You're not my Alpha," Rodney grumbled, but despite the rate of his pulse, he was calming down. "Your confidence is inspiring, however."

"I picked you," John said, quirking a grin at him, eyes crinkled up and everything. "So I'm your Alpha and that's the way it is."

Rodney snorted. "And people complain about _my_ ego."

***

Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Everything was wrong. Teyla and Ronon _liked_ the enzyme. And this was all a bad, bad plan. John showed up in Ford's room and stood there for a long, long moment, silent and staring.

"Sheppard," Ford said, without turning around. "How can I help you?"

"I wanted to give you an opportunity to change your mind," John said. "Privately. Lets you save face."

"And why would I do that?" Ford said, turning around to face John, radiating confidence. "This is going to work. McKay's almost got it finished, even if he won't stop _whining_ the whole time he's doing it. Teyla and Ronon are doing great, and we're all better, faster, stronger than we've ever been. My pack is ready to go." He didn't say it, but he was including Teyla and Ronon at the very least as part of that pack.

"Your pack," John echoed. "Aiden, this isn't a pack. It's just a couple of guys who happened to be able to survive the metamorphosis because they were hopped up on space vampire venom. You're not an Alpha."

Ford's expression turned ugly. "You're just jealous," he snapped.

"Jealous," John echoed. "Explain that to me, please." He wasn't at all afraid of the look on Ford's face.

"I chose this," Ford said. "I went out, and I gathered these people, and they follow me. They obey me. You didn't even want to be Alpha," he said. "And we all knew it. It was an accident that made it happen, and you let Bates beat you half to death before you decided you wanted to live badly enough, so okay, you'd be our leader."

John took those words in and they felt a little bit too close to home for comfort. Still, he didn't let it show. "I've spent the vast majority of my life as a lone wolf. Did you know that? And do you know what, exactly, the life expectancy is for a lone wolf? Fifty years at the most. I've lived twice that long."

"So you're not even that old, not for a wolf," Ford said. "Bates was centuries older. You didn't want this. I did. So yeah. I think you're jealous of what I've done here."

"See, there you go, just not really picking up on what I'm saying. No, I'm not that old for a wolf. Yes, Bates is a lot older than me. But a lone wolf who can last as long as I have tends to have a certain power in them. They tend to have qualities and power and that--" dare he say it?-- "magic in them that makes them capable of becoming an Alpha. We wouldn't make it past that half-century mark if we couldn't. And there was that quality in me that drew you. You were a good beta for me, Aiden, and you'd be a good beta for someone else, but do you honestly think that you'd have had the Atlantis pack's loyalty if something had happened to me?"

Ford clearly didn't like that. At all. "I backed you up. On _everything_. I was loyal, and I was respectful, and I kept the pack yours. You wouldn't have held it without me."

"No," John said, "I wouldn't have. Like I said: you're a good beta. You're not an Alpha." He took a step closer. "Let's give up on this. Come back home--you and your pups. I'll take them in and they can be part of the Atlantis pack. I'll take care of them. And you."

For a moment or two, it looked like he was convincing Ford. Like he'd say yes. "All of them?" he said. "You wouldn't lie about that, would you Sheppard?" The longing in Ford's eyes was impossible to hide. "You think things could go back to normal, and everything would be just like it was before you chased me away?"

"I didn't chase you away," John said, gently, with another step forward. "You ran. I tried to stop you, I tried to bring you home. I wanted you to come home. I _want_ you to come home."

Ford closed his eyes for a moment. "I could come home. Go back, be your beta again?" he asked, looking John in the eyes.

John sighed softly. "I had to choose another beta, Ford. But I don't have a third. A pack the size of Atlantis needs one. They need you. So do I."

And that was the moment that John lost Ford. "We're doing this first," he said, expression completely closed off. "You've handed my role over to someone else--we're doing this first. I have to prove that I'm a leader so I can get it back. I have to prove that we can do this. We're sticking with the plan."

"Ford, please," John said. "You know as well as I do that I'm always the first to volunteer for a suicide mission, but this is--this is crazy. Let's all just go back to Atlantis."

"You need to leave now," Ford said. "I've got things to do. You need to go." And before John could, he stopped him. "Who is it?"

John sighed softly. "Major Evan Lorne."

"Lorne." Ford had to think a moment, then he said, "The guy you sent out with McKay to find me."

"Yeah," said John. "That's him."

Ford looked at John and he smirked. It was an ugly expression. "I beat him once. I can beat him again. You need to go."

John shook his head. "If you really think you could take Lorne, then you really don't have a clue." He turned around and walked away.

Dammit all to hell.

***

Not for the first time, John woke up thinking that every doctor who ever told him that wolves were incapable of suffering concussions must surely be full of crap.

He groaned and sat up, rubbing at his head. "Ford?" he said, hoarsely.

"Took you long enough," Ford muttered, from where he was crouched over beside the cell door.

"They hit me a lot," John muttered.

"Don't expect me to feel sorry for you," Ford said, turning on him. "This is your fault."

John decided that for the moment, the floor was still actually the best place for him to be, so he stayed put. "Right."

"We shouldn't have stopped," Ford said, pushing himself up so that he could stand over John, as big and imposing as he could get. "You know we shouldn't have stopped, and you did it anyway. You're just determined to screw this mission up, aren't you? Can't stand to see me succeed. Jealous bastard."

"You know, Ford, I think you've got a lot of issues to work out."

"Oh yeah?" Now Ford was really pissed off. "How about the part where you just couldn't wait to replace me?" he snapped. "New beta--some guy you don't even know, but Ford's gone, might as well just put anyone in the number two slot, they'll be better than even trying to help him. And then there's McKay," he added, voice getting even louder. "How long was I gone before he took my place too?"

John pushed himself to his feet. "McKay. Who you left behind." He tilted his head to the side and studied Ford's furious face. "It had nothing to do with anyone taking your place, Ford, and if you weren't so screwed up on that damn enzyme you'd know that."

"I know about you two," Ford said, like John hadn't even said anything. "Did you think I wouldn't be able to tell? That's who you replace me with-- _him_?" He laughed, but it was bitter and nasty.

"I didn't replace you. That's not what any of it is about. What exactly do you think the two of you have in common that makes him a substitute for you?" John asked. The worse Ford got, the calmer John became.

"How about _you_?" Ford snapped. One arm was wrapped tightly around his stomach, and he didn't even know it. "You didn't really want me, did you? You couldn't have. I had to push, and beg, and convince you to come near me, and as soon as I'm gone, you get to have who you really want. And it's _him_." He leaned in a little closer. "What do you think they'll do to him if we don't come back?" he added. "I'd have thought that, if nothing else, would mean you'd take this seriously, but maybe you _don't_ care about him. Maybe he's just someone else for you to play with and throw away!"

 _Hi, Aiden, welcome to Crazy Place, population: you._

But even as the thought flitted through John's mind, he stared in absolute horror at Ford. "That's why you left him behind," he said, said, just loud enough for Ford to hear. "You left him behind as insurance that I'd co-operate because... because..." He turned away and stalked across the cell, ignoring the woman cowering on the floor against the wall. "Good job, Ford, absolutely fucking brilliant! You know Rodney is the one person who might actually be able to break us out of here by exploiting all this technology--so you _left him behind_. Because you're jealous!"

Now? Now he was pissed.

"Rodney, Rodney, Rodney, that's all you care about!" Ford yelled at him. "He's the one who you insisted we lower the enzyme dose on. Not Teyla, not Ronon. You think they don't know that you abandoned them for him? That you put him first? They'll stay with me," he said. "When we get out of here, when we complete the mission, they'll leave you, and they'll stay with me, because they believe in what I'm doing. You'll see. You'll see," he repeated. He turned away, breathing faster, and held his arm tighter across his stomach.

"I love him!" John yelled back. "Okay? Do you understand that? Do you have any idea what that means to me? He's my mate and I will do anything to protect him. I have to keep him safe. But Ronon and Teyla are part of my pack too, they're my family, and I am not going to leave them behind. I wouldn't leave you behind, either, if you'd give me half a chance. Now would you sit down and shut up and let me figure out a way out of here before you have a damn coronary?"

Ford glared at John, but he didn't yell at him this time, turning away after a few moments. It was a while before he spoke again. "I don't have very long before the enzyme starts to fade," he said quietly.

"Yeah, I figured as much," John said.

"We have to figure a way out soon," Ford said, turning back to John. "And this time, when we get out, we can't look back."

***

John crouched next to Ford. There was a brief time he'd thought about changing into a wolf to see if he could get out that way, but now it was too late. He put his hand on Ford's shoulder. "How you holding up?"

"Okay. I'm okay," Ford gasped. He was drenched in sweat, and shaking all over--anything but okay. "I just need more of the enzyme. It'll all stop if I get more of the enzyme, and we can get out of here, and get the rest of our people, and finish the mission, and go back to the planet and get Rodney, and--"

"Shh. Don't." John sighed. "I'm gonna get you out of here." Somehow. He just had to work out the details.

The girl--Neera--was wiping the sweat off Ford's face, and he managed to murmur a thank you. "Is it true? What you said?" he asked John, licking at his already cracked lips. Even with the enzyme leaving his system, as a werewolf, he should have been healing more quickly. He wasn't.

"I said a lot of things," John said.

"About Rodney. You said... do you really love him?" Ford managed to force his eyes open so he could look at John. "Were you just saying that, or is it true?"

So help him, John felt embarrassed now. "Uh," he said, "well. Yeah."

"I didn't know it was like that," Ford said, teeth starting to chatter. "I didn't know... I thought he was just... I didn't know. I should have known. If I was a real Alpha, I'd know, but I'm not, and--" His body jerked violently.

"Shh. Come on, Aiden. You're stronger than this. You're a werewolf." If Ford was going through this, what were Teyla and Ronon going through? Or Rodney? Oh, God, Rodney. On that planet, all by himself.

Ford sagged back against the floor, still shivering and gasping. "I'm trying," he rasped. "I'm sorry."

"We're gonna get out of here, safe and sound. And we're gonna go back home and you're going to get better. I promise. We're a family."


	4. Chapter 4

John sat heavily on the side of his bed, elbows on his knees, and stared down at the floor. He hadn't said a word for quite some time now; long enough to actually make Rodney worried.

Rodney gave him a long time--especially for Rodney--before he couldn't stay quiet any more. He pulled a chair around and sat in front of John, reaching for his hands. "Talk."

John lifted his head and looked up at him, eyes haunted. "What if he's dead, Rodney? If he's dead, I've failed him. Again."

"You didn't fail him. You didn't fail him the first time, and you didn't fail him now. You did everything you could," Rodney said, keeping eye contact with John. "He saved you. All three of you. He chose to do it, because he remembered who he was, and a big part of that he learned from you. You have to honour what he did. You have to respect it. And even if he did die? He died as Ford."

John closed his eyes. And even though he nodded, he found himself tongue-tied again. He brought one of Rodney's hands to his mouth and kissed his fingertips.

"Plus... you're safe, and I'm here, and I helped save the day... so Ronon's going to owe me for that one. That's always worth a lot."

John laughed softly. "Of course, Rodney." His hands suddenly clutched Rodney's a bit tighter. "He tried to use you against me."

"People seem to like doing that to us," Rodney said. "Kolya, as one example, seems to think that it's a really good idea, although they don't seem to realize that it's generally bound to backfire, usually spectacularly." He didn't protest, even though John was holding on pretty tightly.

"Yeah, but at that point, I hadn't decided that I wanted you to be my mate," John pointed out.

"That's true too," Rodney said. He looked at John for a moment. "Did he... you and Ford, did you... were you... you and Ford? You were, weren't you?"

John blinked at him a few times, not quite understanding, and then he nodded. "Yeah," he said, "we were."

"Wow," Rodney said, a strange look on his face as he flipped through the events of the previous year in his mind, when Ford was still with them. "I actually did not know that. That explains a lot of things, actually. Especially about the way he was acting when he was holding us hostage."

"Well," John said, "yeah, I suppose--that is, I--yeah. He figured it out pretty fast, and he saw us. At least once."

Rodney gave John a look. "You didn't tell me he was watching us."

"I didn't know."

"So... when you say that he used me against you, what did he do, exactly?"

"He held you behind on the planet so that I'd co-operate."

"I knew that part. It's what taking a hostage is..." Rodney trailed off. "Specifically me. Instead of Ronon or Teyla, because he knew about us."

"Yeah. That's why you were the one on the planet. Because we're... because you're my mate."

"So your ex-boyfriend left me behind because he was jealous, and he thought that would make you do what he wanted," Rodney said.

John was about to protest Rodney's wording there, and then he sighed. "That's pretty much it exactly."

Rodney just snorted. Loudly.

John frowned at him, then sighed and pulled his hands away so he could flop back on the bed. "Dammit."

"Oh, _what_?" Rodney said, getting up and coming to join him on the bed. "Now you're going to be all dramatic? I'm the one who got left behind on the planet because your ex-boyfriend is possessive. How long was it going on for anyway? You and Ford?"

"A while," John admitted. "Sometime after the whole situation where I had a bug stuck to my neck and we were stuck in a stargate."

"That long? That long, and I never knew?"

"So?" John said as he pushed up onto his elbows. "You were sleeping with Grodin."

The fact that his surprise regarding Ford was rather hypocritical did not seem to faze Rodney. "Well... yeah," he said. "Wait. You knew that? I didn't know that you knew that."

"Of course I knew it," John said. "I could smell you all over each other."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "Okay, that's just... that's an invasion of privacy," he protested.

John pointed at his nose. "Wolf senses. I can't help it."

"Oh, that's your excuse for everything," Rodney huffed. And then he lifted his head. "So... Ford could smell us? But we hadn't... we weren't exactly honeymooning on his little deserted planet, John." Being hopped up on the enzyme wasn't exactly something that put Rodney 'in the mood'.

"Yeah, he could smell us, and while we weren't exactly having crazy mad sex against cave walls--" or even a single blow job, despite Ronon's suggestion, and oh God, John was never thinking about that ever again, "there were a couple of... moments, Rodney. I mean, think about how I kept you calmed down. And I--well--that is--getting close to you like that, I... it put my smell all over you," he added in a mumble before flopping down again.

Rodney couldn't blame him for that. They were surrounded by half-crazed werewolf pups and he had to keep them off of Rodney! Right?

Rodney stared at him, looking vaguely appalled. "You put your smell all over me," he repeated. "Well, that's just... that's mental imagery that I'm not sure I needed." His eyes widened. "And it still doesn't explain how you knew about me and Grodin. Neither of us are wolves. And we--it's not like we didn't _shower_!"

With a huff, John pushed up on his elbows again and gave Rodney one of those _oh please_ looks that he surely picked up from Rodney himself. "Wolf. Senses. Can't help it. It doesn't matter if you bathe or wash clothes or anything like that. You spend that kind of... quality time with a person, it's on you, and that's just the way it is."

"So as soon as we started having sex, back when we weren't even on Atlantis, before we told anyone, every wolf on the _Daedelus_ knew? _Caldwell knew_?" Rodney's voice got a little high-pitched.

"Yes. They did."

"Oh my God," Rodney said. "We are never having sex in the middle of the day again. Or in the morning. Or at any time before we're going to be seeing people."

John finally rolled his eyes. It felt good. "Rodney, it really doesn't matter. They'll know we had sex even if we go on a week-long hiatus. Which we are never doing except under extenuating circumstances."

"You know what? Werewolves are _nosy_ ," Rodney huffed. "No expectation of privacy."

"How do you think we feel?" John asked. "We can't help it. There is nothing we can do about our hearing or our sense of smell. Do you think we want to be able to hear conversations that we shouldn't be able to, or that we want to know who's having sex with whom?"

Which actually made Rodney pause. "I never thought about it like that," he admitted.

"Well, there you have it," John muttered. He flopped down again.

Rodney was quiet for a bit longer before he settled in next to John. "So... I didn't know about you and Ford, because I'm not a werewolf. You knew about me and Grodin, but you didn't say anything. Why?"

"Well--because I figured he was your boyfriend," John said.

"That's not exactly how it worked," Rodney said, although he couldn't help smiling, even if there was sadness in his expression.

John rolled onto his side, then pushed himself up on one elbow to look at Rodney. "It really wasn't that way with Ford and me, either," he said, softly.

"I was getting that impression, yeah," Rodney said, watching John. "I'm not jealous of you and Ford."

"I was more than a little jealous of you and Grodin."

"Well, you're a werewolf, and a possessive one at that. I'm completely unsurprised that you were jealous... except, wait," Rodney said. "Even back then? When you were with Ford, and I was with Grodin, back then, you were jealous?"

John nodded. "Yeah, I was. I wanted you for my own." He ran his fingers over Rodney's neck.

Rodney leaned into the touch. "Possessive wolf," he murmured. "So. Maybe he had a reason to be jealous, if that was the case."

"Maybe he did at that," John agreed. He leaned over Rodney and pressed in close, smelling his neck. "Mine."

He groaned, very softly. "Yes I am," he murmured. "You're stuck with me."

"Good. That's the way I want it." John licked Rodney's neck.

"It's almost as though you've been deprived of something for a while," Rodney said. "I wonder what it could be... MREs? Sleep?"

John growled at him.

Rodney really, really loved that particular growl. "The pile of paperwork that's probably waiting for you in your office?" he asked.

John climbed over Rodney, found his wrists, and pinned them over his head. He growled again.

"Or, maybe, we could stay right here?" Rodney suggested, already breathing more heavily.

***

When John was agitated, he tended to shove Rodney into walls, which was exactly where he had Rodney at the moment.

"Uh, _ow_ ," Rodney protested. "I'm not as strong as you, you know."

John growled at him. It was damn close to the moon. He dragged his teeth over Rodney's neck.

One part of Rodney wanted to melt every time John did that, the other part of him wanted to swat John on the nose. This time, he went with the latter instinct.

John drew back, startled, and blinked at Rodney a few times. Then surged forward again, grabbed Rodney's wrists, and pinned them above his head. He _growled_ , low and rumbling in his chest.

"Oh, no--we are not going to do this like that," Rodney vowed, kicking John right in the shin. "We are going to fight about this by yelling at each other like _civilized people_!"

John swore, loudly and colourfully, hopping back away from Rodney. "I don't _want_ to _fight_!" he yelled.

"Well I do!" Rodney yelled back. "And you're the one who pushed me into the wall, which is one thing when you do it all the rest of the time, but an entirely different thing when you're angry, _and_ you've got that thing on your face, _AND_ when you were clearly shacking up with some Ancient chick!"

"It's been _six months_ , Rodney! And if you're so upset about the beard, I'll shave!" And then he reached for Rodney again, long fingers curling around his wrist.

Rodney slapped the back of John's hand with his free hand. "Not for me it wasn't months," Rodney said. "And what would you do if you came back here after a day, I told you it was months, and that I'd been sleeping with, I don't know, Katie Brown?"

The growl rose in John's chest again. Possessiveness flashed in his gaze. Rodney might as well have just poked him lightly in the shoulder, because John's fingers tightened around his wrist and he yanked Rodney in against his chest so he could smell him again.

It was illogical and ridiculous. Rodney didn't smell like anyone but their team and Elizabeth.

"Yeah... just me. Where you smell like incense and village and _Ancient_. What is it with you and women who glow, huh?" Rodney demanded, giving John a shove.

John stared at him for a moment as he took a step back and finally let go of Rodney's wrist. "You can smell that on me?" he asked.

He scowled at John. "I'm not a wolf, but I can still smell. I remember from last time."

"You weren't my mate then," John said, scowling back. "You've got no ground to stand on for that one."

"I'm not _talking_ about then, I'm talking about now, and I'm backing up my current hypothesis with relevant data from another time, and you didn't deny it!"

"I thought I was never going to come home!" John shouted. "I'd resigned myself to staying there--with people who weren't _afraid_ of me!"

"I'm not _afraid_ of you, you giant _poodle_!" Rodney said, damned near stamping his feet. "I was afraid that I'd _lost_ you! I was screaming at everyone, desperately trying to get enough supplies through that you could survive. I never, ever thought I'd see you again. Maybe it was six months for you, and a day for me, boo hoo, poor Rodney, but I lived and died with every _second_ of that day."

That brought John up short. Mouth open, frozen on the spot.

There was a reason that John had chosen Rodney for his mate, against all his better instincts. Teyla and Elizabeth both would have made far more sensible choices; they were leaders, diplomats, and above all else--they could give him offspring.

But for all his flaws--and they were myriad--Rodney'd been the one to call to John. He was fire and passion and he had already learned how to stand up to John in ways that no one else really would. He stood up to the soldier and the wolf. And it was frustrating as hell. It was what John needed.

Rodney wasn't afraid of him.

"I love you," he said, the words springing up as unbidden as the growls from moments ago.

Now it was Rodney's turn to stop short and stare. "You've never said that before," he said, looking stunned, the anger slipping away, before it flared up again, just a little. "Don't... if you said that just now because I'm yelling at you and you think it'll make me stop, so help me, John--"

John reached for him. This time he wasn't rough. He didn't force himself on Rodney. His hands were gentle as he cupped Rodney's face in his hands, and when his mouth found Rodney's, the kiss was just as gentle. Soft, sweet, tender, and then he whispered against Rodney's mouth, "I love you."

"I love you too," Rodney whispered back, throat tight. He cleared it quickly, then pulled back just enough to look at John, watching his face as he gave him a sharp cuff upside the head. "Don't you ever, _ever_ doubt that I will come for you," he said, voice rough, eyes bright. "Not ever. I will always find you. Always."

John caught Rodney's hand, but brought his fingers up to his mouth, biting playfully at them. "Same," he whispered, voice rough. "No one will ever take you from me."

"Okay." Rodney finally calmed down, getting himself back under control. "And no more Ancient chicks," he added.

Yes, that was going to be a rule. "No more Ancient chicks," John agreed.

"Okay... so we're good?" Rodney checked.

"Yeah," John said, squeezing Rodney's hand. "We're good."

"Good. So, _now_ if you wanted to pin me up against the wall and ravish me, that'd be just fine."

John grinned at him.

Wolfishly, even.

And did just that.

***

John spent a lot of time thinking about the Wraith and discussing them with Elizabeth. She figured that the myths of vampires on Earth must come from the Ancients--an ingrained fear left behind in all the humans who remained.

Agreeing to all of this sometimes seemed like a bad idea. He even considered telling General O'Neill just that. On the other hand, he thought as he curled closer against Rodney--he wouldn't have this. He'd still be a lone wolf among the greater pack. All alone in a crowd.

***

"Rodney?" Elizabeth appeared before him. It was very late, and the mess was more or less deserted, save for Rodney, his blue jell-o, and his laptop. "May I join you?"

"Of course," Rodney said, pushing his computer a little out of the way. "Have a seat."

She sat down across from him. "John's been avoiding me," she said.

Rodney frowned. "He has?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Something tells me it has to do with what happened while we were..." Possessed? Hijacked by alien entities? "Inhabited."

"Ah," Rodney said. "Yes. That was really a lot of fun for everyone."

"Rodney, I don't need you giving me the cold shoulder, too," Elizabeth said, finally allowing her exasperation through. "You're not a wolf."

"Not when I last checked, no," Rodney said, reaching for his Jell-o. Although honestly, if John didn't lay off the biting...

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side for a moment, regarding Rodney. And then her eyes widened in surprise. "This isn't about him. It's about _you_ ," she said. "He's upset because you're upset."

Rodney sucked at lying. "Am not!" He tried anyway.

"Yes you are. And your mood is affecting his."

"I'm sure that's not true." Oh, liar liar, flaming underpants.

"Rodney. We've known each other two years now. I know when you're lying. Remember how you're not very good at it?"

He scowled. "Oh, _fine_."

"We're still friends, aren't we?"

"Of course we are," Rodney said. "I'm just... I'm small, and I'm petty, and I'd like it if every time we get attacked by aliens, he didn't end up sucking face with someone. I really, truly don't think that's too much to ask. When it's me, I end up terrified and trying not to pee my pants, and I get _Kolya_ , but not him."

"Kolya certainly isn't a fair trade, no," Elizabeth agreed. "But, Rodney, you're taking it out on me. And so is he."

He sighed loudly. "And that isn't fair, is it?"

"No. So I think there are two options. We talk about it, or I turn you into a rat until you learn how to play nice again." She smiled, dimples and all.

Rodney looked nervous. "Hey... I asked Carson to turn Kavanagh into an invertebrate dozens of times and he never would."

"That's because you _asked_."

"How is it more ethical to turn me into a rat?"

"Because I'm not doing it for someone else."

"Well, if you ask me, that's cheating," Rodney muttered.

"Probably," she admitted. "So. Do we deal, or do I make you small and furry for a while? That would probably really annoy John..."

"Or he might eat me, and then you might have to deal with him," Rodney pointed out.

"So I think the rat thing is out of the question."

"I think I can learn to behave. And stop being a jerk."

"It wasn't your John, Rodney. And it wasn't me. They used us." Elizabeth reached out for his hand. "I need the two of you back to normal."

"I know," Rodney said, taking a deep breath. "Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I apologize."

She squeezed his hand. "I can't imagine how difficult it must be for you sometimes."

Rodney sighed. "Don't make fun of me, Elizabeth, please? I know I can be ridiculous," he said.

"I'm not making fun."

He looked up at her, almost like he wasn't sure he could believe her.

"Rodney," she said, "did you have many male lovers before John?"

His cheeks went a little pink, and he shook his head. "Not in the sense you mean, no."

"And now here you are, in an alien galaxy, surrounded by witches and wolves and a few others, hunted by the vampires we never thought were real, and you're the mate of the Alpha male wolf. How am we doing so far?"

He squirmed. "Well, when you put it like _that_...."

Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "I wonder if Dr Heightmeyer has some time available for you..."

"No--no, no, no, no, no," Rodney said, shaking his head furiously. "I'll be _fine_. Last time I had to see her, I ended up kissing Carson, and that made things very uncomfortable for awhile."

"Yes. Yes, it really did. I had to hear about it. Lieutenant Cadman wanted to transfer back to Earth."

"Well she might have thought about that before she bodyjacked me to kiss the local he-witch."

"Her Alpha wasn't very pleased, either."

"True," Rodney said. "So... are we all right?"

"Of course we are."

"Okay. I'll let John off the hook."

"Thank you, Rodney. And me?"

"You I already forgave," he said. "It's not your fault that John is irresistible."

She laughed. "Alphas are like that sometimes, you know."

"Nothing about my life has been normal since I met any of you, you know that?" Rodney said ruefully. "Good thing you're all worth it." Then before anyone could point out that he'd actually said something complimentary, he was getting up and getting ready to leave.

"Rodney," Elizabeth called out, "take care of him."

She knew he intended to, but it felt nice to say. She didn't need the city's Alpha to be so unbalanced.

***

John had already lost one second. He wasn't going to lose another.

He knew instantly that those remains did not belong to Lorne and his team. Lorne was alive--he was going to do everything in his power to save him.

***

"Teyla." John caught up with her. "Can I...?" He nodded in the direction of a room he was pretty sure was empty right now.

"Yes, of course," Teyla said, nodding as well.

He led her inside and the door slid shut behind them. This was awkward. "Listen. Uh. About Lorne."

Teyla's face gave nothing away. "Yes?"

"It's good he's not actually dead," John said, a bit gruffly. "And we're gonna get him back."

"Yes," Teyla said, a hint of a shadow crossing her face. "I know that we will. Your people don't leave their own behind."

"Hey," he said, gently. He really wasn't good at this. This was why he had a second--but his second was missing. "It's gonna be okay. You're not going to lose him."

She met his eyes, and this time, she let the fear that she was hiding show. "John?"

"Yes, Teyla?"

"You know."

"I might miss a lot--that's why I need a second--but I can still smell him on you. And you on him. I don't disapprove."

She looked away, needing the moment to compose herself. "I am not used to talking about my private life. I never have been," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Well, he didn't tell me, either. I'm sure you had a reason for keeping it to yourselves."

"There are people who are still uncomfortable with my presence on Atlantis," Teyla said bluntly. "For me to be involved with your second... for it to be an actual relationship... there are people who will not approve."

"That's true," John said. "Prudence only makes sense."

"Still. I should have told you," Teyla said. "And I should not have asked Evan... Major Lorne to keep it a secret." Her voice only wavered the slightest bit on his name. For Teyla, that might as well be breaking down and crying.

"No, you shouldn't have. But it wasn't a secret. Not from me." He put his hands on her shoulders. "We'll bring him home. I promise."

She nodded and leaned her head forward, gathering strength from him. "Thank you," she said, very softly.

***

The Genii just kept on making his life difficult. It made John cranky, especially the part where they were developing various chemicals that could seriously hinder a wolf's ability to, well, wolf.

(Could one use 'wolf' as a verb? John decided that he could.)

***

The first time that Lorne's relationship with Teyla caused trouble was when they tested the retrovirus. John had to take his second down to the floor. He'd never had to do that before, but Lorne's anger and jealousy over the amount of time Teyla spent with Michael became a problem.

The only time John wasn't sure he could keep up the charade was when Michael had wistfully commented to him that he was disappointed to discover he wasn't a werewolf.

Were-space-vampire-wolf? No. Thank. You.

Later, he figured the universe was going to have "I told you so" rights for what they'd done to Michael.

Even later, he might have almost, maybe, considered rescinding that thought when Michael helped him rescue Ronon and Rodney. Maybe for just a few minutes. Or a moment. A very short moment.

Nobody said it out loud, because nobody likes admitting to mistakes, but the retrovirus was a really bad idea.

***

John's relationship with Rodney was a series of events that could be labelled 'trouble', even if the events weren't exactly their fault or even had anything to do with their relationship. It was the way of life for them that sometimes, events spiralled and spiralled before they concluded.

But finally, John and Rodney had some time to breathe. Shower first. Rodney still smelled of Wraith and John couldn't stand it. For once, Rodney hadn't protested being told what to do. The shower felt amazing, like they were both letting all the stress and fear and panic just wash away. He was safe. He was here, with John. They were both still alive.

And then the old familiar routine: he pushed Rodney against the wall and buried his face against Rodney's neck. The growl he let out was one of intense pleasure. "Mine," he mumbled against Rodney's skin.

Rodney sighed, tilting his head back. No fighting this time. "Yours," he said immediately.

John pulled Rodney back away from the wall and urged him across the room. They shed their clothes along the way. "They tried to take you away from me," he said.

"I'm fairly certain that at some point I told them that was a very stupid thing to do," Rodney said.

"I made them regret it." John was terribly proud of himself. The wolf was a little more in control right now. He shoved Rodney down onto the bed and covered his body with his own. "They hurt me. I hurt them." He licked Rodney's neck.

"I'm a little turned on by that, and I'm not sure if I'm happy about that, or disturbed by it," Rodney admitted, gasping.

"I can tell," John mumbled, biting at Rodney's shoulder. He alternated now, marking one, then the other once that bruise had healed. He worried at the soft, pale skin with teeth and tongue, sucked until the mark raised, and he lifted his head and admired his work with a smile.

"Animal," Rodney murmured, smiling at him.

John licked his lips. "You want me that way."

"As it happens, yes I do," Rodney admitted. "Make me forget."

John growled, shuddering all over from those words. His mouth worked its way down over Rodney's body, licking, nipping, kissing. His teeth scraped over Rodney's hip. The smell of him was overwhelming John's senses now. He took Rodney's cock in his mouth, moaned around him, and pushed him down onto the mattress.

Rodney let out a shout at the first touch of John's mouth, trying to buck up against him. Not the easiest thing to do when you're pinned down by a werewolf.

John had taken a few human lovers in his lifetime, but Rodney? He was so responsive. John sucked hard on him, wanting his pleasure. All of it. Everything that Rodney had to give him. Rodney babbled John's name, grasped at his shoulders, squirmed, and tried to move. It was. Not. Happening. Not unless John let it happen. And when John let it happen, it was so that he could allow Rodney to move when he lifted his head and said, "Lube."

Rodney moved. Rodney moved _fast_. He all but threw the lube at John in his haste to get over, and get his ass up in the air.

Oh, well, when Rodney put it like _that_. John set the lube down and pressed in close behind Rodney, spread him open wide, and dragged his tongue along Rodney's crease. He moaned, and licked him again and again and again.

Rodney was rapidly losing his _mind_ , and it was all John's fault. He let out a strangled sound, shoving back against him, spreading his legs wider still. He pleaded, he _begged_ , he lifted his ass up as high as he could get it, and did everything he possibly could to encourage John to give him more, more, more. Always more.

John reached blindly for the lube. And just as he pulled away from Rodney, he pushed a finger inside him. Rodney was tight. Hot. John growled. He'd make this good for both of them, of course he would, but damn if Rodney didn't shatter his control sometimes.

Rodney practically _wailed_ when John's finger pushed inside. He shoving back against it, all greed and need and desperation.

Another growl. John pressed in a second finger, his free hand rubbing over the small of Rodney's back. "Shh," he soothed--as much for Rodney's benefit as his own. "Soon. I promise, soon."

"Soon... please, please, soon," Rodney murmured, tensing around John's fingers.

John still hadn't managed to figure out how to make the one-handed act of getting the lube open and his cock slicked effortless. Soon enough, though, he pressed up close behind Rodney again. Close as he could get, and pushed inside him. Slow, deliberate, barely daring to breathe. He fell still; pulled back, then pushed inside again.

Rodney was out of words as soon as John pushed inside, not that it meant he went quiet. Not even close. He keened wordlessly, ass high, ready for anything, and John grinned. He didn't take it easy on Rodney. He tried, he really did, but that tenuous grasp on his control was gone. He gripped Rodney's hips, tight, knew he'd leave bruises. Fucked him _hard_. Thrust into him again and again, groaned, growled, licked the sweat from Rodney's back.

John suspected that if Rodney had the breath to say it, he'd be calling John an animal. Right then, all he could do was take it. And moan like a--John wouldn't think it. Rodney might yell. But still: Rodney sounded amazing. Every noise that came up out of him made John wonder, sometimes, if Rodney sounded like that because he knew what it did to John. And then other times, it was so damn perfect he didn't care one way or the other. All he knew was that Rodney was his. Taking everything he could give.

One hand finally let go of Rodney's hip and moved under his body, found his cock, stroked him off. He wanted every last drop of Rodney's pleasure. Rodney shoved back hard and clawed at the bed. John couldn't hold out much longer, but he wanted Rodney to come first. He was stubborn that way. Well, he was stubborn in a lot of ways.

And it didn't last. There was no way, not after being separated from Rodney like this. The same thing had happened after that whole botched affair with Ford and the enzyme and the hive ship. John had fucked Rodney like this--just as hard, just as desperate, and that time, John had come first, too.

He howled through his release, head back, eyes squeezed shut, his one hand digging hard into Rodney's hip. The other kept moving until he felt Rodney's cock pulsing over it. He panted desperately for breath. It took everything in him not to collapse on top of Rodney. He withdrew from him, carefully as he could, and _then_ collapsed. Next to him, arm over Rodney's back, taking Rodney down to the mattress with him.

Rodney just grunted when John pulled him down, landing in an undignified heap.

 _Mine._ John couldn't talk right now, but he hoped Rodney felt it. Love and possession and devotion. Loyalty.

Everything.

***

John received a very interesting e-mail from Carson one morning, which contained a PDF file of a paper he had completed. There was growing evidence that there was a connection between werewolves, witches, other fae, and the ATA gene.

Not all people who had the ATA gene were any of the above; not everyone who was werewolf, witch, or fae, had the ATA gene. But there was significant overlap. Some ordinary humans who had the ATA gene were descendants of someone from the 'other' community.

The ATA gene therapy was successful in less than half of the people inoculated; however, in those people were the therapy worked, it turned out that a fair number of them knew that they had a werewolf, witch, or other fae in their ancestry.

Carson didn't have to spell it out. He was delicate that way. But John spun in his desk chair and regarded Rodney, who was still fast asleep in bed.

People who had ancestors who had been other-than-human were more likely to be able to survive the werewolf metamorphosis.

The ATA gene therapy had worked for Rodney.

Rodney might survive. All he had to do was ask.

***

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, John was grateful that being Alpha granted him what could only be described as magic powers. Nothing tangible; nothing he could do on purpose, but it allowed him to do things like resist creepy Lucius and his creepitude. It did not, however, allow even powerful witches or, for instance, his beta from resisting what really ought be resisted. He never, ever needed to see Lorne giving a man flowers with that look of adoration on his face. It was just downright disturbing, and besides, it hurt Teyla's feelings, even if she wouldn't admit it.

John needed a witch. Radek wasn't powerful enough; Elizabeth was a little too close to Lucius. So John kidnapped Carson.

They'd had a plan. It was a good plan. It was a wonderful plan.

Carson, however, was deeply annoyed by the whole situation. In fact, John might say he was downright pissed off. He turned Lucius into a frog. John had never been so proud of Carson in his life. He could have kissed him right on the mouth.

He wondered, for a few minutes, whether or not Elizabeth actually did, but John tried not to spend much time dwelling on the intimate lives of witches.

He loudly and repeatedly denied to Rodney that he had now, or ever had in the past, a crush on Carson and his dimples.

***

While it was traditionally an Alpha's decision, being in the military, and their unique situation, John couldn't turn someone without rather a lot of red tape. First, he had to talk to Lorne. And then he and Lorne needed to inform the pack. Deal with anyone who really didn't want an outsider brought in.

Then he had to sit down with the highest ranking people of the expedition. He sat in the conference room with Elizabeth, Rodney, Carson, Lorne, Teyla, and invited Dr Heightmeyer, just to cover all of his bases.

"I think it was being back on Sateda that cemented the decision for him," John explained. "Ronon's been with us a year, but now Atlantis is home. And he wants me to try. I'm confident that he'd survive."

"You can't be certain though," Dr Heightmeyer pointed out. "You don't know that he'll make it."

"They can never _know_ ," Rodney said. "It's becoming a _werewolf_ , not pledging a fraternity."

"Ronon is... insistent. I think he's going to continue to be insistent. I don't want to lose him. He's valuable to us." And he was John's friend. John never had many of those, even before he was a wolf. "It's what he wants. And something tells me he's wanted it the entire time he's been here."

"He's already seen as an unofficial wolf," Lorne pointed out. "And Colonel Sheppard's never actually chosen a third. Ronon would make an excellent choice."

"I agree," Teyla said, and although she was echoing Lorne, she certainly wasn't agreeing because he had. "Ronon's people are gone. To him, your people, and Atlantis itself, represent a cause worth fighting for. A people worth aligning himself with. I would not turn him away."

"I just wish you could be more certain that he'd survive," Elizabeth said.

"There's never certainty," John said. "Just instinct."

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "If it's what he really wants, and it's what you want, Colonel, I won't stop you."

"Thank you," John said. "It'll be a good idea to have as much privacy as possible. We'll take one of the uninhabited parts of the city. Most of the pack will want to be there."

"I'll make myself available for the day," Dr Heightmeyer said. She didn't like it, but she wasn't military... and this wasn't her choice. "In case anyone needs me, before or after."

"John... is it only the pack who can be there?" Teyla asked, looking at him. "If I would not be a distraction, I'd like to be present."

"Thank you, Doctor," John said, nodding to Heightmeyer, and then he turned to Teyla. "It's not that others aren't allowed, but Ronon has to invite you himself. I wouldn't be surprised if you and Rodney at least get asked, and probably Elizabeth and Carson, too."

Rodney looked nervous, but stubborn at the same time. If Ronon asked him, he'd find a way to attend.

"Thank you," Teyla said. "If he asks, I'll be honoured to be there."

***

About a week later, Ronon stopped Teyla and Rodney from leaving the conference room after a briefing with Elizabeth. They'd been attacked by a Wraith scouting party on a planet they were exploring, and John had fought them as a wolf--and taken a lot of abuse. He was still in the infirmary.

"I'd like you both to be there," Ronon said. "When the time comes. When Sheppard's ready, I'll be ready."

"Thank you for asking us," Teyla said, looking up at Ronon. "I'll be there."

"So will I," Rodney said. "I've never been particularly good with violence and... you know, all that, so I might look away when it gets particularly... well. You know. But I'll be there."

"Thank you," Ronon said, a little gruffly. "That's important to me." He clapped Rodney hard on the shoulder. "You're both pack already, anyway."

Rodney staggered a bit when Ronon's hand came down across his shoulder, but he did smile. "I suppose that's true, isn't it?"

"You've both been accepted. And now it's my turn."

"Just so you know... you're already accepted," Rodney said. "I'm not going to try and talk you out of it, but you should know that."

That got one of Ronon's smiles. A big one. "Thanks, McKay." He clapped Rodney on the shoulder again. "I'm gonna go check on Sheppard. Coming?"

Another stagger forward. "I think so, yeah. Teyla?"

"Give him my best... I need to go see Lorne," she said. "I'll be there later."

***

The black wolf padded into the room last. John had shed his clothes in the corridor, folded them carefully, and then made the change before he stepped inside. The whole pack was there, some as wolves, some as human. And Rodney, Teyla, Elizabeth, and Carson. And Ronon, right in the middle of them. Shirtless, barefoot, he stood ready.

John wasn't sure he was as ready as any of the rest of them. He was not in any way prepared to lose Ronon.

Ronon was still, silent, and waiting. Prepared. He locked eyes with the black wolf for a moment--but just a moment. He looked down, signalling his submission.

He'd been studying.

John approached Ronon with purpose. And then he attacked.

Rodney was pale; white as a sheet, actually. He wanted to be here, because it felt like the right thing to do--to support John, whatever happened, and to support Ronon... also whatever happened.

He just desperately hoped that 1) it went well, and 2) he didn't throw up on the floor.

The mate of the Alpha really wasn't supposed to throw up on the floor in front of the whole pack.

Rodney and Teyla had both seen John fight as a wolf. This was just as savage, just as brutal--but this was Ronon, not some nameless Wraith hell-bent on killing them. And for once, Ronon wasn't exactly quiet about the pain he endured.

And then suddenly it was silent. Ronon lay sprawled on the ground and John sat back on his haunches. Everyone in the room was so quiet that it was like no one was breathing. All they could do was wait. The only clear sounds in the room came from Ronon, still lying prone on the floor.

And then Ronon just stopped. Lorne stepped forward, crouched down next to John, and said, softly, "C'mon, Ronon. C'mon. You can do this."

Teyla's fingers dug in deeply against Rodney's arm, her lips moving, but no sound coming out. Elizabeth and Carson had clasped hands but weren't doing anything particularly witchy; it wouldn't help anyway.

"Don't you dare," Rodney said, voice low. "Don't you dare give up on us, Ronon."

The wounds started to close. It seemed to take forever. And then Ronon's entire body jerked, arched off the ground, as he sucked in a ragged and desperate gasp of air. Lorne helped him roll onto his side as the entire room breathed a collective sigh of relief.

The change was slow and sounded as though it was as agonising as the savaging had been. But then there it was--a magnificent, beautiful wolf. He rested his head on his paws, eyes closed, panting. He didn't even move when his Alpha started to lick his face.

Rodney didn't relax until the moment that Ronon completed his change, letting out a sigh so big and loud it probably took half the air out of the building. "Oh thank God. If he'd died, I would have killed him."


	5. Chapter 5

John staggered naked out of the shower, dropping his towel behind him. He looked wordlessly at Rodney. He felt as if he was still covered in Ronon's blood.

Rodney reached out for him, offering John his arm. "Hey... it's okay," he said. "You know that, right?"

John nodded. He pulled Rodney into his arms.

Rodney held on tightly. "Have you done this before?"

"This was only my second time. The first time I tried, the change didn't take. I killed a very good man." John hid his face in Rodney's neck, letting himself breathe in Rodney's scent.

"No, he died because the change failed," Rodney said. "And you wouldn't have done it if he hadn't asked you to."

John let out a soft noise, almost a whine. The wolf was still close. "Thank you, Rodney."

"Ronon made it. He's one of you now. That's what's important."

"He'll make a good third," John said. He sounded exhausted.

"He will," Rodney said, starting to manhandle John toward the bed.

John let him. There was really no way he was going to fight Rodney on this one. He let Rodney guide him down to the bed and opened his arms for him, pulled him down against him, and held him tight. "I didn't fail him, Rodney."

"No, you didn't. You've got a brand new shiny giant wolf to track paw prints and mud all over Atlantis," Rodney said, squirming around until he can bring up the covers.

John laughed softly. "We don't track mud, Rodney."

"Tracking in mud... bringing in fleas... shedding all over the carpet..."

***

John and Ronon decided they hated the Replicators.

They couldn't be eaten, they couldn't be shot, they could stick their hands in your head and make you experience things that weren't real, they could infect people. They almost killed Elizabeth, and while John still did not speculate about anything that may or may not be happening privately between Carson and Elizabeth, John suspected that Ronon might have certain feelings that they were not going to talk about.

They spent an evening with Elizabeth in her quarters; John, Rodney, Carson, Teyla, Lorne, and Ronon. Elizabeth told them everything she experienced.

Wolves had guided her home.

There was a smile on Ronon's face when Elizabeth said that, that John would never forget.

***

The weird thing was, as John found it harder and harder to deal without Rodney--Rodney found the same thing happening to him.

***

The last time John and some of the other wolves had fallen into the hands of the Genii, they'd been gassed. It was a gas that was very effective against the wolves. After all, the Genii had been the first people aside from the Athosians to learn about the werewolves--much to John's chagrin, of course.

It seemed they'd worked on other methods that could incapacitate a wolf, and Kolya'd got his hands on at least one these methods. The sedative was just about perfect, even John had to admit that--and he was the one it was working on. He felt utterly detached, and couldn't find his wolf.

If he could just find the wolf, he could probably escape. He was Alpha. He could change whenever he wanted.

The wolf was very, very far away.

And the Wraith?

Far too close for comfort.

***

Everyone was talking at once... talking, working, running from station to station. The clock was ticking, and they all knew it. They had to find Colonel Sheppard before the end of the three hours they'd been given by Kolya.

Everyone was working, running, talking. Everyone but Rodney. He was still in the same seat he'd dropped into since the video feed went dead.

As if like magic (ha), Carson appeared at his side. "Rodney," he said, softly.

Rodney started when Carson spoke. He hadn't even noticed him sitting next to him. "Sorry... yes, I know, I need to... I should talk to Ladon, see if he's got anything for me," he said.

"He's with Elizabeth right now," Carson said. He squeezed Rodney's shoulder. "Come with me."

"But... I have... I need to get back to work," Rodney said, looking lost.

"Come with me, please, Rodney." Carson hauled him to his feet. Which, in fairness, he should not have been able to do so easily, which meant he was using some kind of magic to cheat. Which was cheating. But Rodney also didn't care right now. He let Carson guide him up and lead him off.

"It's been over a year now, hasn't it?" Carson asked, gently, guiding Rodney right from the tower.

Rodney had to think about it before he answered, but he nodded. "Yeah... about that, yeah."

"They grow on you, don't they? The wolves."

"You could say that," Rodney said, still distracted.

Carson led Rodney to a quiet corridor, and made him sit down on a bench. "Are you okay?"

Rodney looked at Carson like he might possibly be insane. "I really don't think I am," he admitted.

"They grow on you. A wolf. When you love them, it's... it gets harder and harder to be apart from them, as time passes."

"I'm not a wolf though... I'm just a human," he said. He knew that John struggled when they were apart, if the way that he put him into walls once they were back in the same space again was any indication. "Are you saying it works for humans too?"

"Yes, Rodney, it does." Carson squeezed Rodney's shoulder again. "It's a kind of magic, as the song goes."

"Fucking poodle," Rodney muttered, looking down at his hands. "One more thing he didn't bother to mention."

"But there's something more than that," Carson added. "You've been together for over a year, Rodney. Not many people make it that long in any relationship, and I think at this point it's safe to say that's what this is. Isn't it?"

Rodney--rare for him--couldn't speak. But he did nod, very clearly. Yeah. It was a relationship.

"And you just watched your... partner being tortured. Combine that with the magic of feeling that way about a werewolf and you're not functioning at capacity at the moment."

Rodney flinched when Carson said 'tortured', but he nodded again. "I have to," he said to Carson. "I have to get him back. I promised him that I would always find him."

"We'll get him back, Rodney. I just wish we could pin-point a planet... I know a brilliant locator spell."

"And I need to get you close enough so that you can do that," Rodney said, blowing out a slow breath. "Okay. I can do this now." He turned to look at Carson. "We'll find him."

"Yes. We will."

Another deep breath in and out, and Rodney got up, looking like he was on a mission. "Thanks, Carson. I'll let you know as soon as we find something," he promised.

Carson dimpled in his direction. "Good. You know where to find me."

Rodney McKay back on track; mission accomplished.

***

John pushed himself up with a groan so he could sit against the wall of his cell.

Just as soon as he had all his faculties back, he was gonna eat Kolya. There was, perhaps, something to worry about in that line of thinking because of the whole situation with the Wraith, but that really didn't stop him from going to that line of thinking.

Eating Kolya would be worth it.

"You are awake." A low voice came from the cell next to John's.

"For now," John said, shaking his head to try to clear it.

"You should not be. Not this soon."

"I never do what's expected."

There was a sound that might possibly have been a laugh.

"How long was I out?"

"Not as long as you should have been."

"Okay, so you don't have a watch, I get it," John muttered. He shook his head again.

The door opened. A few Genii soldiers came in. One was holding a syringe.

John forced himself to get, shakily, to his feet. He was ready. He would fight. He'd have to fight.

He couldn't change.

He wasn't fast enough. Wasn't strong enough. He had forgotten what it meant to be human; what it meant to be able to be overpowered, forced to the floor, to have his strength taken away.

The drug coursed through his veins. He wanted to sleep.

"Dammit."

The soldiers left, and a door closed down at the end of the hallway. "They fear you. Why?"

"Is that what I smelled?" John asked, forcing himself to his hands and knees. He crawled to the wall again and slumped against it. "They think I'm a monster."

"Why?" True curiosity from the other cell.

"Because I can turn into one," John said, grinning. He felt hazy. Distant. "It's why they keep drugging me. If they didn't, I could change. Rip them apart with my teeth and claws and escape." He paused, then added in a sort of far-away sounding voice, "Wonder if the drug has an effect on the Wraith when it feeds on me."

"Not in the way that you mean."

It took a little too long for that to really register. "What?"

"The Wraith knows that it's there, Sheppard. Its presence is obvious. But it does not affect him."

John was quiet another long moment. He actually felt himself starting to drift off to sleep before he gave himself another shake. "I don't remember telling you my name."

"You did not."

John turned his head to the bars separating the two cells. "Then how do you know?"

"I heard it."

John forced himself to his feet. "When?"

"You know when. Don't you?" He was still in the shadows.

John sniffed the air. Not all of his senses were dulled by the drug. "You..." He took a few steps forward.

And passed out.

***

John wasn't exactly in the mood to talk when he was deposited back in his cell. He couldn't heal from the Wraith feeding on him. The Genii drug was just too potent. He rolled onto his back, forced his eyes open, and looked up at the ceiling. "You're going to kill me," he said. "There's not a lot that can kill a werewolf, but you're gonna manage it."

"Yes. I will." There was no triumph in the Wraith's voice. "You should already be dead. You know that, don't you, Sheppard?"

"Wolves are harder to kill than an ordinary human," John said. "Probably because we're not ordinary humans."

"Tell me more. Tell me why every time I feed, you have started to recover from the feeding process."

"We heal faster," John said. "Our bodies are more efficient. Work harder. Keep us strong, healthy, and young. We... we can fight you. Win. I need to get out of here."

"That is not possible. There is no escape, Sheppard."

John didn't respond to that. "We know a lot more about you--about Wraith--than you do about us, huh?"

"I do not know," the Wraith admitted, very reluctantly. "I have been here a long time."

"If I missed a dose of the drug, I'd be able to recover long enough to escape," John said. "This cell wouldn't hold me." He pushed himself up onto his knees, then attempted standing. He fell down.

"It is hard to believe that when you cannot get up off the floor."

"Then maybe you should stop snacking," John muttered.

"If you were starving, had been starving for longer than you can remember, and fresh prey was placed in front of you... would you stop?"

John sat up. "No," he admitted. "No, I wouldn't be able to." Damn Wraith.

"We are both predators, Sheppard. We have to feed. If it were not for the drugs, how long would it be for you before the beast took over?" he asked.

"It already would have," John said. "And I'd be free."

The Wraith considered that. "It will not work," he said finally. "They will not stop drugging you. They will keep taking us upstairs. And they will make me feed on you until you are dead."

John thought for a moment. "How well do you know the layout of this place?"

"Well enough," he said. "But I cannot escape either."

" _We_ can," John said. "We can escape. I just need enough time for the drug to clear my system."

"It is suicide." The Wraith turned away from John and walked to the other side of the cell.

"Coward."

A long, long pause. "You would call me a coward even though they will come and get us shortly, and I will have your life in my hand?"

"What else have I got to lose?"

"Besides your life? What does it matter if you die at my hand, or die trying to escape? In either case, you will be dead."

"Because if I die trying to escape, then at least I was trying to escape."

It made sense in John's head.

Apparently, it made sense in the Wraith's head too. "Tell me your plan."

***

"McKay." Ronon's long legs always made it easy for him to catch up to Rodney.

"Busy... very busy right now, Ronon, can't stop to chat," McKay said, trying not to lose his train of panicked thought.

"McKay. Lorne's offworld. That leaves me in charge of the pack." And dammit, Lorne was so much better at this than he was. Ronon was the wolf you pulled out when you needed somebody... corrected. "And I know you're not a wolf, but..." He shrugged. "We need you."

Rodney stopped moving, resting his hand against the side of the wall. He swallowed hard. "What do you need?" he said quietly.

"Right now? You need to calm down. I can smell you panicking, and it's distracting."

"It's distracting. Well, I'm _sorry_ if my _panicking_ because my... John has been _kidnapped_ is distracting you, but I think that it's actually a pretty good reason to panic!"

"I've only been a wolf for a few months, McKay," Ronon said. He was close to feeling the thread of his control snapping, and that, he knew, was not good. "We'll be lucky if Lorne makes it back before tomorrow and I really, really don't know what to do. I need--" Yeah, this? Not gonna be easy. Not at all. "I need your help," he ground out from between clenched teeth. "You're Sheppard's _mate_."

Rodney wasn't stupid. Well, that was an understatement, really--he was a complete and absolute genius, but he'd been called stupid as far as situations like this were concerned. But he really wasn't. Just sometimes a bit more self-centred than was helpful. He sighed, then closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down and find some kind of centre. Some way not to be panicking.

"Thank you," Ronon said gruffly, a few moments later. Then he awkwardly patted Rodney on the shoulder. "We'll get him back."

"I told him I'd always find him," Rodney said, looking up at Ronon. "I promised."

"I'm not gonna let you break that promise."

"Is that a promise?"

Ronon nodded. "Yeah, it is. He's my Alpha. I owe it to him. He gave me a home."

"Okay," Rodney said. "Go. Find him. I'll be ready when you are."

***

John was there for the start of the fight. He put a Genii head into a Genii wall and punched a Genii face and then he met a Genii floor.

When he woke, he felt sharp. Clear-headed. He looked up to see the Wraith's face and let out a startled yelp that he'd be embarrassed about later, when he had time to be embarrassed. "What the hell!"

The Wraith didn't move, focused instead on Sheppard. "Tell me how you feel, Sheppard."

John paused a moment. He stared at the Wraith. "Good," he said. "Strong. The drug's out of my system. I couldn't have been unconscious that long." He looked around. The Genii were all dead. Fed upon. He stared at the Wraith again and backed up, a growl starting low in his throat. A warning.

"Would you attack me now?" the Wraith asked. "After I saved your life?" He lowered his hand, after looking at John's chest for a few moments.

John looked down, then looked up at the Wraith again. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. There would be more guards on the way soon. Very soon.

"You were unconscious for mere minutes--no longer," the Wraith informed him. "You do not know everything about Wraith, Sheppard."

No, apparently he didn't. And he'd have said something about it, but he could smell more Genii on their way. "We have to get out of here now," he said.

"We will have to fight our way out," the Wraith said. He didn't sound like he minded.

A predatory grin spread over John's face. "Yeah," he said. "We will."

The wolf longed to hunt. To inflict as much hurt as had been inflicted upon him.

The Genii guards barely had time to scream when they came in to find out what was taking so long for the prisoners to be delivered to Kolya and his camera. The black wolf fell on them, growling, biting, tearing them apart. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to clean up his own mess.

The Wraith took out his own guards, feeding on them, roaring triumphantly to the ceiling. He looked at the shredded guards, somewhat irritated that he couldn't feed on them as well, then pointed down a hallway. "That way."

John looked up at the Wraith, gave him a wolfy sort of grin, then tore off "that way".

The Wraith could keep up with him. It wasn't as fun as running with Ronon, except for the part where Genii just kept on getting in their way and John got to attack. That part was fun. That part made his senses sing.

That part made him worry about just how alike he might, in fact, be to a Wraith.

The Wraith stopped when they made it out of the building, lifting his head to the sky, breathing in the fresh air. He smiled. John watched him, warily, then turned away. The fresh air felt good. And it smelled like humans. Genii. They'd be guarding the gate. They'd be out searching. He gave a soft growl and sniffed the ground.

Someone had been here recently.

"We will never make it off the planet alive... but I will die in the open air," the Wraith said.

John huffed at him. _Pessimist._ He barked, then turned and bounded off into the woods.

They'd get out alive. He had to go home to Rodney, who was probably freaking out quite a lot.

The Wraith ran after him, keeping up easily. Some things were a lot easier when you'd just eaten an entire contingent of Genii.

***

"Ronon says he's sorry he left you behind, Rodney." John sat down on the bed next to him and bumped his shoulder. "Will you forgive him?"

"He told me to sit and stay," Rodney said through his teeth. "Sit. And. Stay."

"He told Teyla the same thing. She's about as impressed as you. I think he was trying to prove himself to me."

Rodney huffed softly. And... was he pouting?

"Hey," said John. He reached out and put his hand on the back of Rodney's neck. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"He did a really good job," Rodney said reluctantly. "You should be proud of him. I'll stop being pissed at him in a day or two."

"Yeah, he did. Would I have preferred it if he relied on you and Teyla, too? Of course. We're a team." John turned to him, running his fingers along Rodney's neck, feeling his pulse under his fingers. "You know what kept me fighting? Coming home to you."

"Good," Rodney said. "That's your job, when you're out there. It's my job to find you."

John was quiet a moment. Then he whispered, "If you asked, Rodney..."

Rodney shook his head, and placed his finger on John's lips. "Shh."

John bit playfully at Rodney's finger. "Mine?"

He smiled. "Yours," he agreed. "Promise me something?"

"Anything in my power to promise, Rodney."

"Next time we come across Kolya? Please kill him extremely dead for me?"

John snarled. "That's the plan. Even if I have to rip him apart with my own teeth."

"You'd have to sell tickets."

***

Ronon had a scuffle with Lieutenant Anderton.

Anderton ended up in the infirmary.

Some of the wolves were getting restless. Maybe even a bit frightened. It wasn't all that long ago that it looked like Elizabeth might not be returning to Atlantis; it was even closer to present that she nearly died.

It was the Replicator threat mixed with the Wraith threat. Sure, the Wraith were fighting amongst themselves, but that didn't make things better.

Ronon and Lorne proved themselves again and again. John really couldn't have asked for better from them. They were invaluable.

He just wished that the other wolves wouldn't keep getting so uppity. So far there had been no deaths, but they kept ending up in the infirmary. Ronon was a force to be reckoned with.

But then there was another land battle with the Wraith.

The Wraith hadn't anticipated it. John and his people never did find out just why they ran into each other in the first place, but they were on the ground. It was close to the full moon on the planet. Most of wolves were able to undergo the change.

It was a slaughter.

And Ronon--huge, powerful--Ronon was one of the first to change. The first to attack. The first to kill.

From that point on, there was little concern that Ronon would have to kill one of his own to cement his position in the pack.

He may not have been born on Earth, but he was one of them. He fought with them. Bled with them. He was their brother.

***

John paced. "How much longer?" he asked.

"Not long," Elizabeth replied. She sounded amused.

"Give me better than that, Elizabeth," John snapped.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

To his credit, he looked sheepish. "Sorry."

"Any moment now."

John was gonna meet Rodney's family. Well, his sister. She was pretty much all he had left. John had wondered, at least once, whether or not she'd hate him for making Rodney his mate. He'd learned not to care what people thought of him, but for some reason? He gave a good damn whether or not Jeannie Miller hated him.

***

"Hello, Jeannie. May I come in?" John gave her his most charming smile.

She gave him a cool, discerning look, as though she was trying to read his mind, and then she stepped aside, gesturing for him to come inside. "Come on in."

He stepped into her quarters and clasped his hands behind his back. "Rodney tells me your husband is a witch."

"A white witch," Jeannie corrected, going over to sit on the edge of her bed.

"Right. Yes. That. A white witch. Good for... good for him."

"Why are you bringing it up?" Jeannie asked, her expression giving nothing away.

"'Cause I'm... a... werewolf."

She gave him the (apparently genetic) McKay 'are you a complete idiot' look. "Yes... I know that," she said.

"Jeannie, I..." He shifted from one foot to the other. "I need to know that you and I are... that you don't..."

"Are you going to hurt my brother?" Jeannie's question came out rapid fire, and out of nowhere.

"I'd never hurt him," John said, just as quick. "He's everything to me. I love him."

"Are you going to take care of him? Keep him safe? Put up with him even when he's an impossible pain in the ass?" And now Jeannie was up and in his face, poky finger and all.

"I already do," John said. "I take care of him as much as he takes care of me. I've never let him down and I don't intend to."

There was a long pause, and then Jeannie smiled at him. "Then we don't have a problem," she said.

John relaxed visibly. "Okay, then," he said, and grinned. "Good."

"Just remember... you'd better make good on those promises you just made me," Jeannie warned him. "It's a very bad idea to be foresworn to the wife of a witch." Her smile got wider, and very dangerous. "I'd hate to have to have him turn you into a standard poodle."

"What is it with you people and poodles?" John asked.

Jeannie just laughed in his face.

***

"You bit me!"

John turned around. "Yes, Rodney, I bit you, and I said I was _sorry_."

"You bit me, too." Ronon, unlike Rodney, sounded vaguely amused.

"I'm sorry for biting everyone!"

***

"Major?" John caught up with Lorne in the corridor. "Hey."

"Hey," Lorne said, turning around and giving John a very fake smile. "So."

"Have you, uh, made up your mind yet?"

Lorne's smile faltered. "Yeah... I have. I can't go back," he said. "Will I have to desert?"

John rubbed his face. "I can release you from the pack, but..." He didn't want to have to say it out loud. Lorne's record, to this point, was entirely spotless. "It's gonna hurt to let you go."

"It wasn't an easy decision to make," Lorne admitted. He's lost sleep over it, ever since they found out the Ancients were forcing them to leave Atlantis.. "But I can't leave Teyla. And I can't leave Ronon either. Being a lone wolf is hard enough, but he's still--and don't tell him I put it like this--a baby."

John nodded. He leaned against the wall. "Just think. The two of you, starting your own pack out here in the Pegasus galaxy." He managed a very sad smile.

"Pretty small pack," Lorne said. "Nothing's going to be the same anymore."

John shook his head. "No. It's not." He cleared his throat. "Listen. Things are about to get hectic around here. I wanna say... I..." He looked down at Lorne for a long moment, and then gave him that sad smile again when Lorne met his gaze. "I didn't want another second. I'd never had a second before Lieutenant Ford. But you--I couldn't have asked for better. I knew you'd make a good Alpha one day. I just didn't expect that it would be so soon."

Lorne looked down for a moment or two, taking that in. "Thank you, sir," he said, looking up at him again. "If you're right? If I do? It'll be because of what I learned from you."

That made John feel about a thousand feet tall. He reached out for Lorne's hand. "It's been an honour, Evan," he said.

"Thank you," he said, gripping his hand. "Thank you, John."

***

Elizabeth and Carson stood back to watch. There were a few moments, brief though they were, of unbridled joy when Lorne and Ronon were reunited with their Alpha. Ronon, in particular--Elizabeth thought she'd never seen him so happy. But then the three wolves got themselves under control.

John actually reached up and put his hands on either side of Ronon's face. "You good?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Ronon, beaming down at him, still clutching at John's shoulders. "Yeah, I'm good. We're all good."

"But we missed you like hell, sir," Lorne said.

"Look," John said, later, when they all sat together, "I know you're an Alpha now in your own right, but..."

"I'm going back with you," Lorne said, without hesitation.

"So am I," said Ronon.

Lorne looked at Teyla. He knew better than to speak for her.

She smiled and reached for Lorne's hand. "We're all coming back. Atlantis is our home."

"Then we'd better figure out how to go rescue General O'Neill and Woolsey," John said. "The Replicators invaded our city. Our home. We're gonna take it back. We only have three wolves--a fourth once we rescue General O'Neill. But we have Teyla. Rodney. And two witches. They're gonna regret taking what wasn't theirs." He looked fierce and determined in the candlelight. Man--soldier--wolf. Alpha.

Rodney had never been hotter for him.

***

Replicators did not taste good. And really didn't react appropriately to being savaged.

Not that Wraith tasted like a nice medium-rare striploin, but at least they had the decency to yell and bleed and whatnot when they were attacked by teeth and claws.

***

They gave up the pretence of separate quarters. John and Rodney just found themselves a larger space.

John bounded up onto the bed, tail wagging. Then jumped down again and head-butted Rodney right in the hip. Barked a few times and ran to the window, then back to Rodney.

"I am not chasing you," Rodney said. "Do I look like a wolf? No, I am a human being, and that means I don't play 'chase the wolf'."

John's tail and ears sagged. He whined up at Rodney.

Rodney sighed loudly. "Oh, now you're going to make that face? Don't make that face," he protested.

John leaned in and licked Rodney's hand, then took his fingers into his mouth and held them there.

"Next time we go to Earth, I'm getting you chew toys," Rodney scolded, scritching John's ears.

John's entire body thrummed with pleasure at Rodney's touch, then he bounded away again to the door. He scratched at the base of it; Atlantis didn't recognise the pack when they were wolves. Probably for the best, all things considered.

There was a howl, very nearby. The pack was out there, waiting for him. The first full moon back on Atlantis and they wanted to run. To howl. To rejoice in their homecoming. And they wanted their Alpha.

Rodney shook his head and laughed, opening the door for him. "Go--run. Don't eat anything that's going to make you throw up on the floor," he warned him.

John barked once, sat back on his haunches, and threw his head back for one very long, very loud howl. It was echoed, even closer than before. He bounded up to his feet and began to run down the corridor.

"And if you short out any of the electronics marking your territory, I'm not fixing it!" Rodney yelled after him. " _Again_ ," he muttered.

***

Wolves have really good hearing, even when they're human.

John decided, after he woke up in the infirmary, that he didn't like Pegasus whales very much, even if they were trying very hard to be helpful.

On the other hand, at least the city had been saved. Rodney said he did it all by himself; later on, John went to personally thank Elizabeth, Teyla, Carson, and Radek. Rodney was never going to do it.

***

Ronon awoke with a bit of a headache and a sudden inability to hold himself entirely upright. He groaned and leaned back against the wall. He was in a cell with Rodney, Teyla, Carson, and he wasn't wearing all his clothes. He appeared to have been hastily dressed by others. The last he remembered, he'd changed into a wolf to attack Kolya and his men.

"So, on the negative side, Kolya's apparently still got a cache of his anti-werewolf tranquilisers," Rodney said, working very, very hard to be calm and not completely lose his mind. After all, this time they were in the cage, and John wasn't. Strange that he was so much more comfortable when it was this way, as opposed to the reverse. "But on the positive side, them having the tranquilisers available means that they haven't resorted to just shooting werewolves in the head. Bonus for us."

"So there's a good chance Sheppard's out there to rescue us," Ronon said. He felt all fuzzy. He didn't like it. "Otherwise why would they still be holding us?"

"Exactly," Teyla said, and she didn't look happy about it. "We are the bait."

Ronon looked at Rodney. "And with you here, there's no way Sheppard won't come."

"Excellent," Rodney said dryly. "I'm the special bait."

"At least they haven't tied you up in town square," Carson said, trying to be reassuring.

"Oh, _great_. Now that you've said it, do you know what's going to happen?" Rodney's voice got all high pitched.

"They won't do that, Rodney," said Carson. "I think."

"Teyla, tell him to stop trying to cheer me up!" Rodney protested.

"Perhaps it would be best if we just... stayed quiet," she said. "In case the Colonel is trying to signal us."

"Exactly," said Ronon, leaning back. His eyes fell closed.

"Oh, yes, that's alert," Rodney said, looking at Ronon. "I feel safer already."

Ronon shook himself, reminiscent for a moment of the wolf shaking out his fur. "'mawake," he mumbled.

"Rodney, you might as well relax," Teyla told him. "You know that tension won't help."

Rodney huffed--rather like a wolf, actually--and settled.

***

It took the combined efforts of Ronon, Rodney, Teyla, Carson, Lucius, and several villagers to keep John from eating Kolya once he'd killed him.

There was a part of him--the savage part of him--that was somewhat disappointed.

***

"I'm losing him, Elizabeth." John held his head in his hands. "What am I going to--even if he ascends, I'm going to be alone."

"If you don't help him do this, John, he's going to die," she said, gently tugging both hands down from his head. "He has the strength to do it. But he needs you. No matter what the outcome of this is, he needs you."

A growl rose up in his throat, but he didn't try to pull his hands away. "I need _him_."

"Then help him," Elizabeth said. "Help him, John. And don't give up yet on Meredith Rodney McKay."

"I'm not used to feeling so out of control," John said. "It..." His jaw worked a moment. "It scares me."

She touched his shoulder. "How hard was that to say?" she said softly.

He made a strange choked-back noise. "Extremely."

"Okay," Elizabeth said. She squeezed his shoulder firmly. "You can't control this. But you can help him. Now go. Before this becomes a moment you'll regret."

John got to his feet. Turned to go to the door. Then he turned back to her. "Elizabeth," he said, "Lorne has instructions on what to do should I become incapacitated. 'Mad with grief' qualifies for that. Have you ever seen what happens to a wolf who loses a mate?"

Elizabeth nodded, just once. "I have. I'll be ready," she said, very quietly.

***

John didn't leave Rodney's side. He wouldn't. He carried him to the infirmary. Wouldn't let Ronon touch him; snarled and snapped at him when he tried to help carry Rodney back to the Ancient lab.

He sagged against a console in relief when Rodney awoke. He hung back, head bowed, even as Ronon hugged Rodney. Rodney was his mate. And he hadn't been able to save him. Not this time.

***

John turned wolf and hid under Rodney's bed in the infirmary. Rodney knew he assumed they wouldn't have to have any sort of meaningful conversation if he turned four-legged and furry.

"Try to get some rest, Rodney." Carson slipped out of his lab coat. "Dr Nakamura has the evening shift. She'll take good care of you. Good night." He raised his voice a little, and said, "Good night, Colonel." He gave Rodney's shoulder a squeeze, then turned and headed out. The lights dimmed a little behind him.

Which was about as long as Rodney was willing to wait before he threw back the covers that Carson had insisted on, and started climbing out of the bed, biting back a groan as he did.

John growled at him. _Stay in bed._

"Oh, shut up," Rodney said, grunting as he settled in on the floor. "I don't listen to you when you're a human, why would I listen to you while you can't talk?"

John gave him a baleful sort of look, then rested his muzzle on his paws and closed his eyes.

"I know what you're doing, you know," Rodney said. "You forget that I've known you for awhile, John... I know how you work. I know how you think. And I know how you hide."

John huffed but didn't open his eyes.

"You also forget that I don't need your vocal participation in order to have a conversation," Rodney added, scratching at the fur behind John's ears. "You couldn't fix this. You couldn't stop it from happening in the first place, and you couldn't save me, and you're having an Alpha-wolf sulk, because you're supposed to be able to fix everything and save everyone. Especially me. And it doesn't work like that. But you know what? It's partly because of you that I'm still here, right now."

John's tail swept back and forth across the floor. He peeked his eyes open and peered up at Rodney again. He crept out from under the bed a little, then a little more, and finally sat up beside Rodney and licked a broad swath over his cheek.

"You taught me never to give up. Never to accept defeat as a viable option. You, Lieutenant Colonel poodle-face Sheppard, taught me to go out fighting. If it wasn't for you, I would have curled up and let myself die."

John's tail wagged even harder. He climbed right up onto Rodney, forcing him down to the floor, and stood over him. Licked his face very enthusiastically, over and over again.

"Okay--okay, okay, okay, that's enough of that! I am not rounding bases with a _dog_!"

John pulled back. He grabbed Rodney's sleeve in his mouth and tugged a little, back in the direction of the bed.

Rodney sighed loudly. "Have I mentioned at all today that you're bossy?"

It was rather a miracle that the bed didn't just collapse under their combined weight. But it didn't, and John settled down with a pleased sigh, his head rested against the junction between Rodney's thigh and groin. He closed his eyes.

In all? Not the worst day ever.

***

Carson might not have been a wolf, but as far as Sheppard was concerned, he was pack. They all took his loss hard. There was pretty much no one there--at least, no one within John's immediate circle--whose life he had not saved.

John did his best to comfort Rodney. He wasn't sure he helped much, but at least he tried.

Then everything went to hell from there.

Elizabeth was gone.

No one took it well. John and Rodney had each other, at least, but John was surprised by the depth of Ronon's grief. He did what he could to help him through, but Ronon didn't want a lot of help.

Because of the way that stung--he'd _made_ Ronon, after all--he made extra careful that he didn't push Rodney away. He relied on him. Leaned on him. They had each other.

Teyla had Lorne.

But who did Ronon have, if he wouldn't let John help him?


	6. Chapter 6

Colonel Carter wasn't an Alpha wolf. She been a good beta to General O'Neill when he took over the SGC, but she wasn't an Alpha. That wasn't her purpose here; she wasn't meant to usurp John's position. Or even Lorne's position.

Ronon didn't feel that way. No matter what Carter said, no matter what Lorne said, no matter what _John_ said--Ronon wouldn't listen. He saw Carter as a threat--to his world, to his pack, to his Alpha. And above all else, she wasn't Elizabeth.

John was floored when Ronon told him he'd decided to leave with his fellow Satedans. It felt like a punch to the gut. He wondered if he'd made a mistake in making him. Ronon was his _third_. He needed him. He couldn't choose anyone else at this point. Ronon was his, and John felt an overwhelming sense of possessiveness.

It extended to not letting Rodney out of his sight.

Which, naturally, drove Rodney almost around the bend, which in turn made John even more possessive.

***

John didn't know how to console Ronon over the further loss of his friends. He felt lost again for the umpteenth time in months.

"Rodney?"

He didn't look up. "Mmm?"

John didn't say anything.

After a few more moments, Rodney sighed and looked up. "Yes, John?"

"Have I failed everyone?"

"What?" Rodney actually closed his laptop and put it away. "What are you talking about?"

John stared up at the ceiling, hands curled into fists over his own belly. "Have I failed them all?"

Rodney turned around so he could face John. "I can tell that you're struggling with this right now--I can see that. So I want you to know that I'm saying this in the nicest possible way," he said. "That's a really stupid thing to think." And so help him, his voice was gentle when he said it.

John's hands unclenched--but only for a moment. "We've lost so much lately."

"I know," Rodney said. "But John... we've lost people before. This is an incredibly dangerous mission we're on out here. And it never gets easy to lose people. Ever. But the people we've lost lately, they were family. They were closer than blood. The part where it feels like this... it doesn't mean that you've failed. It means that you finally let people get close. And when you let people get close, and you lose them, it's harder."

John squeezed his eyes shut. He hated it when Rodney made sense, but he did ask, after all. "Rodney..."

"Yeah, John?"

"I need you."

"You've got me, John," Rodney said. "What--do you think I'm going anywhere? Don't be stupid. I told you before--you're suck with me. You go anywhere, I'll find you."

John was quiet a while, then said, "Do you know how old I am?"

"You know, I don't," Rodney said. "And I know it's not in your personnel file."

"You looked?"

Rodney didn't even look embarrassed. "Jeannie wanted to know when your birthday was."

That managed to get John to crack a smile. "I'm a hundred and eight. Hundred and nine in a few weeks. Old enough, but... not that old. When I became a wolf, my father disinherited me. I had to sneak into my mother's funeral. I don't know when my brother died. I survived two world wars, Korea, Vietnam, marriage, the Gulf War, and Afghanistan. And I never once felt old. Right now? I feel every second of those hundred and eight-almost-nine years."

Rodney was surprised--absolutely. Not shocked, somehow, but definitely surprised. "You can't fix everything, John. I know you know that," he said. "So you know what you should do?"

John pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at Rodney. "What?"

"Don't stop trying. Don't ever, ever stop trying."

"I like your little pep talks. They're better than mine."

"Well," Rodney said, tugging his computer back again. "I am the smartest person in Atlantis."

"Rodney. Stop playing with your computer."

"Why's that?"

"Because I want you to come here."

"Bossy," Rodney murmured, turning around and abandoning his computer, heading over to John.

John reached for him. "I'm always bossy," he pointed out.

"Which is why I always point it out."

***

The big bad wolf.

Once upon a time, wolves and witches were the enemy. Folklore was rife with stories about wolves eating people and witches wreaking havoc. So the werewolves and the witches remained in hiding--until war broke out between them.

No one knew who started it. Only that the wolves and the witches began to fight each other. Other species were caught in the crossfire. Some didn't make it.

Stories said that Jack O'Neill was a descendant of one of the wolves who brokered the first treaty between the werewolves and witches after the pixies were wiped out during the war. Whether or not that was true was debatable; O'Neill certainly let people think it was true just by not denying it.

Other stories said that Jack O'Neill _was_ one of the wolves who brokered the first treaty.

Peace was tenuous at first but eventually they learned how to work together. The next step was the human world. The wolves began to infiltrate the military; witches began to work as healers, teachers, mediators.

When they made their presence known, more than a few humans became concerned that the wolves and witches were quietly ruling the world from positions of service. It was probably true. It was probably what they wanted. But by the twenty-first century, they were all so used to it that it wasn't even in question for most humans except for certain political and religious groups.

If nothing else, the wolves in particular certainly controlled most of the Stargate program.

But still, the big bad wolf remained. Just outside the edges; eating little girls in red cloaks.

It infiltrated dreams to appear as a part-Wraith creature and feed on one of its best friends. It frightened pretty young doctors. It buried its third alive in a grave. It appeared as a Replicator duplicate to its sleepwalking second. It prevented someone from keeping Dr Heightmeyer from plummeting to her death.

It tormented and taunted its own mate.

Ultimately, the big bad wolf was its own worst enemy.

***

"You were dead." John didn't push Rodney against the wall this time. He was too rattled for that. He pulled Rodney into his arms and held him tight, face pressed against his neck. Breathed him in.

"I'm not now," Rodney said, voice a little bit strangled. "See? Just fine."

John released him and started running his hands over Rodney's body. "I thought I lost you, Rodney."

"You're not getting off that easy," Rodney said. "I'm way too stubborn."

"And you promised." John started to crowd into Rodney's space a little bit more.

"Yeah," Rodney said, more breathless. "I promised."

John pulled Rodney in close again and kissed him, until they were both breathless. When he broke the kiss, he quickly started to pull away Rodney's clothes. "Need you. Now. Now, Rodney?"

Rodney nodded as fast as he could. "Yes--now--now would be good, please, yes," he gasped.

"Rodney... I..." John was Alpha. He shouldn't want it. He shouldn't ask for it. "Will you... Rodney, I want you to..."

He lifted his head and looked right at John, unsure for a moment if John meant what Rodney thought he meant. Once he figured it out, he surged up against John and kissed him harder. "Yes? You sure?" he rasped out.

"Yes. I want--want you to." John dragged his shirt off, tossed it aside, and nodded. He kissed Rodney again, long and hard. "Please, Rodney." They'd never done that before. Not once. And John had--

"Yes. God, yes, I'll ... yes."

John turned them around and started to walk backward to the bed. He should say it. He really should. Instead he busied his mouth with Rodney's again and opened his pants. Maybe he didn't need to actually say it out loud.

Which probably would have worked fine, if he'd been with anyone but Rodney. But John had chosen Rodney, needed and wanted him for who he was, so he really shouldn't have been surprised when Rodney asked the question. "How long has it been?"

John closed his eyes as he sat abruptly on the bed. He opened them again as he leaned over to untie his boots. "Never."

Rodney looked at him and blinked. "Since... never? Are you saying you're a--"

"I most certainly am not," John said, with a flash of anger to cover his embarrassment.

"Okay--okay," Rodney said quickly. He didn't want John to change his mind, after all. "Just... let me, okay?" he asked, stripping out of his pants and climbing up on the bed. "Let me touch you?"

John dropped the rest of his own clothing to the floor, then sprawled out on the bed. Long, lean lines, heavy-lidded eyes, wild hair--and there was something of the wolf in his grin. "Touch me," he said.

Rodney smiled back at him, matching John's grin and moving in between John's legs. He hadn't said that he was going to touch John using his hands. He was down just a moment later; he mouthed at John's stomach, licked over to his hips, then worked his way down.

John groaned, head tilted back. He rubbed his hand over Rodney's hair. Rodney's mouth was always utterly wicked. It was one of the things John loved about him. Not that he'd say it out loud. "Damn. Rodney. Love your mouth." Oh. Oops.

Rodney laughed, and kept going, nuzzling down John's thigh. "You know, it's really not fair that you're so much furrier than I am. Crazy wolf," he muttered, greedily pushing John's legs open wider.

"I... can't help... how is it not fair?" John gasped out, squirming a bit.

"I don't see you ending up with a mouthful of fuzz when you go down on me, do you?" Rodney said. Not that it seemed to be deterring him even a little bit.

"I'm a _wolf_ , Rodney." John's free hand clawed at Rodney's shoulder. "Rodney." He pushed his hips up, wanting more of the sweet, wet heat of Rodney's mouth.

"Shhh... trust me," Rodney murmured, bypassing John's cock entirely, licking up between his thighs.

"I do." There was a bit of a whine in John's voice. Rodney was being a tease. That wasn't nice. One does not tease wolves.

Unless, of course, one's name was Meredith Rodney McKay. In that case, one mercilessly teased even Alpha wolves, and looked damn smug about it later.

John made a mental note to return the favour. Eventually. Later. In the middle of the night when Rodney least expected it. For now, he just squirmed again.

"Don't suppose there's any chance you'll hold still, is there?" Rodney managed to get out.

Right before he licked a stripe right over John's hole.

John let out a stream of rather remarkable profanity as he arched up off the bed. Both hands moved up, scrabbled at the pillows above him, and then he shuddered and relaxed. "Oh," he said.

If Rodney looked smug before, he was unbearably smug now. And he didn't stop. He pushed John's legs open enough to get all the access he needed, and settled in, lapping and licking, pushing his tongue places that it had very much never been before.

John tended to growl a lot when they had sex. Growled, groaned, cried out, sometimes did rather a bit of swearing. But right now, he babbled. He babbled a lot. None of the words he put together made sense together except inside his head.

And a brief moment later, they both heard it when a pillow tore under his hands.

Rodney actually lifted his head away at that moment. "John, that better not have been one of my good pillows--there aren't a lot of them here in Pegasus, you know, and they're not easy to come by."

"Why are you stopping!" John cried.

"I was checking in on the status of my linens!"

"Rodney!"

He huffed out a loud sigh and returned to what he was doing, adding in a couple of fingers this time too, licking and moaning obscenely around them as they slid inside John's body.

Rodney'd always seemed to like it when John did this to him. It made him wonder why he never really thought to ask Rodney--or, well, anyone--to do it for him. He'd been afraid he'd be too tense, anxious, afraid to let go.

There was absolutely no fear here. He trusted Rodney with his life and, of course, his body. John groaned. "More," he gasped.

Rodney's voice was muffled, since this time he didn't pull away. Still, he'd told John that he was bossy enough times with his mouth unoccupied, that he was fairly sure that John would get the message.

And as usual, even when he was complaining that John was bossy... he did what John was asking (telling) him to do.

For a moment, John was actually a little concerned that he'd be able to come, just from this. He didn't want to; not yet. Never mind that he wasn't some young pup, but there was more to do still, and if he was going to come, he wanted it to happen when Rodney was inside him. He whined, whimpered, and squirmed--either to get more, or to try to escape Rodney's stubborn relentlessness. At least John had that delightful werewolf stamina. He curled his fingers around his cock and came within just a few heartbeats--came with a howl, spending over his hand and belly, and then he fell still, boneless, gasping for breath. _Damn._

Rodney's head peeked up from between John's legs, fingers still deep inside him. "We're not done," he warned him, breathless. "Just so you know--we're not done." And, because he was Rodney, he looked unbelievably smug.

"Okay," John mumbled. He sounded very, very happy.

Rodney watched John's face again, and his smug expression shifted into an utterly beaming smile. "I love you."

The corner of John's mouth shifted into a smile. His eyes had fallen closed. "I love you, too," he said.

And then his hips started to move again. Insistent. Needy, even.

"Greedy," Rodney told him, licking across the inside of his thigh. "Greedy and bossy, that's what you are." And even though they'd been holding still, he was breathless again. "Incidentally, your refractory period is completely unfair."

John pushed up on his elbows and grinned at Rodney. "I know," he said, smugly.

Rodney narrowed his eyes at John, and did something wicked with a twist of his fingers.

John fell back, flinging his arms out to the side, and he cried out. "Rodney!"

Rodney laughed, and did it again. The only one who was allowed to look smug? Was Rodney, apparently, not that John really complain all that loudly about this particular punishment.

A growl started low in John's chest. Good as it felt, he was beginning to grow impatient. He clutched at the blankets under them, and when Rodney twisted his fingers a third time, he jerked hard with his hands, yanking all the sheets from where they were tucked under the bed.

Which was as good a sign as any that John was probably prepped as well as Rodney was going to get him prepped, and if he didn't move things along, he was going to end up flipped on his back and fucked nine ways to Friday. Which was never a bad thing, but not exactly the goal this time around. "If you just tossed the lube across the room, you're going to be really sorry," he said, reaching up with his free hand and fumbling around, trying to find it.

"Ah," said John. "Well..."

Rodney gave him a Look. "For someone who's in such a hurry, you're really making things difficult," he complained. "Now I have to get up, and go all the way over there and find it, and I'm very comfortable right now."

John surged up. He moved so fast he knocked Rodney off the bed and had returned to crouch on the bed with the lube in his hand before Rodney even really realised where he was. There was something wild in John's eyes; untamed. Dangerous. He _wanted_. He stared down at Rodney with unmistakable hunger.

Wow. When John felt the urge, he could really, really move _fast_. Not that Rodney didn't know that, it just was rarely demonstrated under a circumstance like this. Rodney swallowed hard, and didn't even bitch about the bruise he was going to have on his ass from being dumped off the bed like that. "Please?" he murmured, holding out his hand for the lube. "Please, John," he repeated, not really aware of just how desperate he sounded. How badly he wanted this too.

John grabbed Rodney's wrist, yanked him close, and kissed him hard. Maybe a little too hard. He managed to press the lube into Rodney's hand, but he had a very difficult time letting go of him so that they could finish this.

It really wasn't easy, but Rodney was not the (self-titled) Master of Multitasking for nothing. He got the lid off the lube while he was kissing John back, somehow managing to get a truly appalling amount squeezed onto his hand (that was John's fault--he did something wicked with his tongue and Rodney's hand slipped) and rubbed all over his cock. "Please... please, please, John, I need this. You need this--we need this, _please_ ," he begged.

John bit Rodney's lip--harder than necessary; he'd be sorry and embarrassed about that later--then pulled away. He rolled over onto his belly, knees spread, and waited. "Rodney." He was shaking. It took him a moment to realise that he was actually shaking from anticipation. He needed this so badly. There was a pause; he could almost hear the gears in Rodney's head as he dealt with this new information. John--John Sheppard--Alpha of Atlantis--literally rolled over and went ass up for him. No one would believe it if they heard it, and anyway--this wasn't a bragging moment. It was _theirs_. Their moment.

Rodney made a soft, needy sound, low in his throat (someone might say it was because he spent too much time around the wolves), and he dragged his slick fingers over John's ass. John could hear how hard he was breathing right now. He whispered John's name and moved in closer, panting for breath by the time he pressed the head of his cock inside John's body.

John rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes. And waited. It seemed to take too long, and not long enough, for Rodney to push all the way into his body.

He belonged to Rodney as much as Rodney belonged to him, and somewhere, the not-half-feral part of his brain wondered if Rodney realised it. Or if this would help Rodney realise it. He groaned and arched his hips up, seeking more. More. John needed. He needed so damn much--but it wasn't about orgasm anymore. He'd had one and could certainly wait. What he needed was just for this to keep happening. This connection was incredible; they might even have to do this again one day.

The noises that bubbled up in his chest, over and over, sounded more like a cat's purr than a wolf's growl.

Rodney leaned down across John's back, as deep as he could get, and started to move. John sucked in a breath through his teeth, lifted his hips, then relaxed again. And kept on--well--purring. It was so good. It was trust. John trusted Rodney, let Rodney inside, and not in the terrible pun kind of way.

Finally, finally, John couldn't stay relaxed. There were no more little bursts of movement followed by stillness. He pushed his hips up and started to move with Rodney, all the while still making those noises that Rodney liked so damn much, if the way he thrust into John's body when John made them was any indication. John wasn't even close to being ready for it to be over, but he desperately wanted Rodney closer. Closer. He wanted everything Rodney had to give him.

John gasped when Rodney's nails dug in against his shoulders. More leverage. He fucked John harder once John started moving with him. John started to sound more like a wolf again. It was the sharp bite of Rodney's nails. He worked with Rodney, revelled in the pleasure of it, and was thankful--infinitely thankful--that he'd never trusted anyone to do this before. It was right that this was Rodney. Rodney inside him.

He didn't have John's refractory period, or John's longevity--he wasn't going to last a whole lot longer. He made a desperate sound, clawed at John's shoulders again (really, really spending too much time with the wolves, and later John would be smirky about that), and kept moving, body starting to tremble from the effort.

"Rodney," John gasped. "Rodney. Please. Let... let it..."

Rodney howled. Actually full-out, full-throated howled as he let go, gripping John's shoulders as tightly as he could as he moved through his release.

John fell still, and fell quiet. Listened. Felt. Damn, he could _smell_ Rodney right now and absolutely nothing could turn him on as much as that did. And yet, for now? He was not going to move.

Rodney collapsed against John after the last jerk of his cock, hands sliding down John's arms as he finally released the grip he had on him.

John smiled.

His own arousal was burning slow inside him. It could wait. Give Rodney a few hours. Take him. Make him howl like that again. He could be patient.

Sometimes.

***

Larrin made John feel uncomfortable. Colonel Carter teased him about that bit of subtext in his mission report. She even went so far to insist that, no, that wasn't the subtext; it was the _text_.

***

"Okay, do I have to remind you about that one time you were trapped on the Lantean ocean floor and you fantasised _Carter_ was there helping you?" John demanded.

"That--you--that is not even _remotely_ comparable," Rodney sputtered. "Especially because she was there _helping me_. She was there because I needed her for the _science_." The fact that they were soaking wet and her shirt was clingy, well. That was his brain supplying the appropriate environmental details. Hardly his fault at all.

"Whereas I was abducted," John said, "and held captive. And I got tied up and smacked around."

"Uh huh," Rodney said. "By the hot chick. _Again_."

"Would you rather it was a hot guy?" John asked. "That's it! That's perfect. Next time I get abducted, I'll make sure it's by the Pegasus Galaxy equivalent of George Clooney."

Rodney's scowl got _epic_ , and he turned away from John and thumped down on his side of the bed, utterly ignoring him.

"Rodney, what do you want from me? It's not as if I escaped my bonds to screw her against a bulkhead!"

Rodney ignored him. It was hard for Rodney to ignore people. It meant he didn't say anything, and that was difficult for him.

"And I told you, didn't I?" John demanded. "I could have kept it to myself. Would you prefer that?"

Rodney bit down hard on his lip. "You got kidnapped. Again. I was scared. _Again_." His voice was very, very quiet.

John wandered around to Rodney's side of the bed and crouched down in front of him. He had deflated. "I came home."

"What if you don't?" Rodney said, not daring to look at John yet. "This is happening way too often, and you're reckless, and the probability of you escaping... it just keeps going down further every single time, and I can't lose you. I'm not the Alpha, and I don't have all that wolf _stuff_ going on, but I can't lose you."

"You came to rescue me. I got away, and I came home with you. I'll always come home with you. You won't lose me, Rodney."

"Can you please _try_ to be less reckless? I know it makes for a good story with the pack, but it won't if part of the story involves you being shot in the head."

"I'm a little too valuable at this point for most people to want to shoot me in the head. Wolf, ATA gene, all... that..." John trailed off at the look on Rodney's face. He sighed and ducked his head. "Sorry, Rodney."

"Can you please try to be less reckless," Rodney repeated, slowly and carefully, as though John was very slow.

John nodded. "I'll try, Rodney. I promise I'll try." He dropped his head down onto Rodney's lap. Showed him his neck.

Rodney reached down and dragged his fingers across John's throat. "And stop getting kidnapped by hot alien women. It's really not fair."

John shivered. "I'll strive to only get kidnapped by ugly aliens."

"That's really all I'm asking right now."

The dark dark and off-colour joke about the Wraith always being happy to kidnap John hung in the air unsaid. John lifted his head and looked up at Rodney. "Still mad at me?" he asked--complete with puppy eyes.

"Yes," Rodney said. "I think you need to make it up to me. A lot. Possibly several times."

A predatory grin crossed John's face. "Oh," he said, "I think I can do that."

And then he pounced.

***

In hindsight, John should have known damn well there was no way they could continue to avoid major crises on a full moon. He'd just thanked everyone and everything--even ones that he didn't actually believe in--that might listen that they had managed it so far.

And then Kirsan Fever hit. Despite the fact that it tore quickly through the human population, Teyla remained as unaffected as the wolves. She'd had it as a child and was immune. There was one sole wolf on the medical team; the rest were military. But Dr Burke was young; he'd only been a wolf for about five years, and he became as unfocused as the humans as the day wore on and the moon started to call him along with the rest of the wolves. John, Carter, Lorne, and Ronon were able to hold out the longest--only because of their positions in pack structure.

John was the last to change. He always was.

Rodney managed to remain in control of his faculties the longest of any of the ordinary humans and remained in the room when the four wolves changed. There was a brief moment, as John gave in to the moon, where he wondered if that was another sign.

By then the Marines and human security team had started to round everyone up. Rodney had meet Teyla as she returned from the mainland with a small team of Marines. John couldn't help but think, as he sat and watched Rodney go, that maybe by the time they were ready to return, her team would be too far gone. That Rodney would be too far gone to remember how to get back to his lab.

John could hear his pack calling to him. They found each other--and the Marines found them. The wolves scattered. They had to stay away or some of the younger ones might hurt the humans unintentionally. John, Carter, Lorne, and Ronon were the only ones to maintain the best control, to hold on to most of their humanity in the transformation. Not a single one of the wolves turned into true monsters--that was a myth perpetuated by certain parties back on Earth--but they would not hesitate to defend themselves against scared humans who could not remember what these creatures were.

John would never be entirely sure which Marine shot Lorne. They'd chased the four wolves away, until they had no choice but to duck around a corner and into a room. The doors slid shut behind them, trapping them there. Lorne curled up in the corner and John and Carter went to him as Ronon barked and growled at the door, scratched at the bottom of it, trying to get it open.

The bullet hadn't gone through. Lorne wouldn't suffer permanent harm, he was too strong to bleed out, but the pain and blood loss would keep him down. And it would keep John concerned. Alpha's prerogative. He hovered until Lorne snapped at him and he hurried back to the door. Maybe _this_ time Atlantis would behave and let him through. It was either that, or continue on with Carter and Ronon laughing at him, because they so were. They couldn't deny it.

Eventually the four of them realised that all they could do was sit tight and wait. They curled up protectively around Lorne--who was still more than a little snappish from the pain but put up with some nudges and a few licks and nuzzles--and waited.

Then the door opened. Rodney! It was _Rodney!_ Oh, and Keller and Zelenka, but _Rodney_ was there! John bounded to his feet, barked happily a few times, and raced across the room.

Rodney screamed and took several hasty steps back.

The door shut on John's nose, which was really quite inappropriate and more than a little rude. He yelped and threw himself against the door.

Carter and Ronon were laughing at him again.

He huffed, turned in three angry little circles, and settled down in front of the door with his tail over his injured nose--which wasn't actually injured nearly so badly as his pride.

***

"I wish I could have gotten here sooner." Lorne crouched on the floor in front of Teyla and reached for her hands. "I am so, so sorry to about New Athos."

She nodded, still feeling numb all over. "There was no sign of them, Evan," she said softly. "No trace. For all I know, the only two Athosians left in this galaxy are in this room."

He squeezed her hands in his. "We'll find them," he said. "I promise you, if they're anywhere, we'll find them and we'll bring them home safely. It's what we do." He shifted closer and took her in his arms. "When are we going to tell Colonel Sheppard?"

"Are you sure he doesn't already know?" she asked. Last time, she hadn't had to tell Sheppard--he'd known without her telling him that she and Lorne were together. This time, she wasn't so sure.

"I have a feeling that he doesn't. He really does miss things--I would suspect that he still only smells me." He ran his hand down her arm. "Besides, it's just... the right thing to do. He needs to know. Teyla, there's a very good chance this baby could be born a werewolf."

"I know," Teyla said. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I know. I suppose I can't make _you_ tell him?"

"It's actually really not my place," Lorne said. He rested his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes, too. "And besides, he won't take you to the floor while he scolds you about the lack of preventative measures on our part."

"But if we did it that way, I could watch," Teyla said. At least now she was smiling.

He gave a little growl. "You'd think you wouldn't like watching your mate get taken down by his Alpha."

"Mmm... you would think that, wouldn't you?" Teyla murmured, tugging gently at his hair.

He growled again, a little louder, but tilted his head into her hand. "Okay, okay, we'll do it together. I mean, at least, I'll stand there." And look appropriately submissive before Sheppard took him down to the floor to scold him.

Teyla smiled. She won.

***

Lorne hit the floor with a thump.

Yeah, Sheppard really had no idea that Teyla was pregnant. There was yelling, growling, scolding--they should have been more _careful_ , did they have any idea what it meant to bring a baby into their situation, what were they thinking? And then he looked at Teyla. He released Lorne, who stayed right the hell where he was, and went to Teyla.

"Congratulations," John said, a little awkwardly.

"Thank you," Teyla said, as though Lorne wasn't still lying on the ground, flat on his back. "Among my people, children are considered a blessing, despite the times we live in, because they are the times we have always lived in. Life must continue. I hope that you can understand that, in time."

John nodded shortly. "Yes. Yeah. Of course."

She nodded too. "Would it be all right if Lorne got up off the floor? He had a difficult last mission," she said mildly.

John looked at Lorne. Lorne didn't look up. Then John nodded again. "You can get up, Major."

Lorne got to his feet and kept his eyes down and head bowed.

"I can't allow you to continue on active duty, Teyla," John said.

Her posture straightened, and she looked extremely stubborn. "I am not sick or useless, John. I am pregnant."

"Yes, exactly. And you need to be safe."

She gave him a Look. "In the time since I have made it my home, how often has Atlantis been something you would consider 'safe'?"

What was it with all these people in John's pack being sensible? "Never."

The smug, slightly righteous look on Teyla's face was slightly similar to the one that Rodney so often wore.

***

Rodney complained about the frequency with which John got kidnapped. Of course he did. He had every right to.

But John tended to go thermonuclear when it happened to Rodney. Especially on Earth, where he should have been safe.

Lorne stayed behind, but insisted that John take Ronon with him to keep him in check.

John got to meet Kaleb the white witch and little Madison, who seemed to take to John instantly. Kaleb was little more uncertain; there was a wild look about the edges to John that Kaleb seemed to find off-putting. That wild look would go away if people would just learn that you do not, ever, kidnap an alpha wolf's mate. And his sister. Rodney and his family were all the family John had outside his pack. He needed to protect them.

***

"Stop hovering, Mer," Jeannie scolded, hip-checking him out of the way. "I can handle dishes."

"Excuse me--I am _trying_ to do something nice and helpful, two things that you say I never am," Rodney protested. "I am not _hovering_.

He was totally hovering.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "They fixed me up good as new. Look at me walk around and everything." To demonstrate, she side-stepped him to grab a few more dishes. "When's Colonel Sheppard going marry you?"

He gaped at her for a moment or two before literally shaking his finger at her. "Don't you start," he threatened. "You won't distract me from fretting about you by being an interfering busybody."

"Fretting? Aw, Mer!" She patted his cheek with a soapy hand.

He yelped and wiped at his face. "Jeannie!"

She laughed. "You are such a child sometimes. So come on! When's it gonna happen? You told me that Major Lorne married Teyla last year when he stayed behind after you got kicked out of Atlantis. Why couldn't you and the Colonel get married?"

There was a shriek and then a lot of giggles from the living room, followed by a happy bark. Madison was playing with at least one of the wolves, and sounded utterly delighted by it.

 _Because he hasn't asked me._ Oh, there was absolutely no way on Earth, or Atlantis, or any other planet he'd ever been on that Rodney was going to say that out loud. "If they tear up your carpet or furniture, or God forbid mark anything, I am not going to be responsible for damages," he said, pointing in the direction of the living room.

"Mommy, look!" Madison was riding on the great black wolf's back, with Ronon and Kaleb hot on their heels. Kaleb, of course, being the protective dad; Ronon had a camera in his hands.

John, for his part, looked good-naturedly resigned to being a particularly furry pony for his mate's niece.

"Look at you," Jeannie enthused. "Are you playing nice with Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yes, Mommy," Madison said, with a 'duh' sort of look on her face that was undoubtedly passed on from her mother and her uncle. And then she patted John's head. "Go! Go!" she exclaimed, and John dutifully carried her away.

"He's so sweet," Jeannie said. "Look how good he is with her--I never would have thought, but I'd never really met many werewolves before."

Rodney looked unbelievably proud. "They're not all like him, but they're not the soulless monsters that the far right of the Conservative Party is always trying to make them out to be," he said.

"Do you remember the fit that Auntie Ingrid had when she found out that Kaleb's a witch? If only she was alive right now, to find out that you're mated to a werewolf. So when's he gonna marry you?"

Damn it. She really was relentless. "Jeannie!"

***

"She insists," Kaleb said. He handed Madison into John's arms.

"Well, if she insists, who am I to say no?" John didn't have a lot of experience with kids, but Madison made it easy. "Got everything done? Teeth brushed, last glass of water, all that? Ready for bed?" he asked her.

"Yes," Madison said, nodding her head all big and deliberate to confirm it, wrapping around John and holding on tightly. "All done."

"Okay, then. Bedtime it is." He carried her up the stairs; Kaleb followed, but at a respectable distance. John could smell him.

Madison still smelled a bit like crayons. They'd had a busy time colouring before she got ready for bed. John was surprisingly good at it. Inside the lines and everything.

There were rules to bedtime. A pattern. Madison liked order. Certain stuffed animals had to be on the bed. Others had to return to their predetermined places on top of her toy chest. The blind on her window had to be down, the night light turned on, and her pillows arranged just so. She already had John trained how to do everything, and it was only their third night. Ronon was going to return to Atlantis in the morning; John and Rodney were taking personal leave--they hadn't done that in, oh, forever and a day. And already, between Ronon and Rodney, there was a lot of incriminating evidence of their Alpha being wrapped around the finger of a five-year-old girl.

He knew, of course, nobody would see it besides Lorne and Teyla. Rodney'd see to it. And sometime during the evening--while he coloured a blue-and-purple unicorn, he suspected--he ceased to care. He sat down on the edge of Madison's bed and pulled the covers up. "Need a story tonight?" he asked.

"Uh huh," Madison said, settling in and getting comfortable. "Tell me the story of when you and Uncle Rodney got married."

John blinked down at her. Got married? Uh oh. "We're not married," he said, gently.

She frowned at him. "But you love him," she pronounced. It wasn't a question.

He smiled. "Yes, I do," he agreed. "I love him very much."

"So why haven't you married him?" she asked. Well. Demanded. "You know, boys can marry boys, and girls can marry girls, Uncle John," she informed him. Perhaps he didn't know--he was from the America States after all. Sometimes they were kind of dumb, Mommy said.

"Well--well, yes, but--we've been very far away and where I'm from, I'm not allowed to marry your uncle," he said.

Madison frowned. "That's stupid," she said.

"I agree," he said.

"Well, then you should get married here. Daddy knows a witch who is a marriage commissioner," Madison said, and by the deliberate pronunciation, it was clear that she'd worked on that particular phrase. "He could marry you. I could be the flower girl."

Ah. Now they were getting down to what was _really important_.

John laughed softly and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "That's definitely something to think about, isn't it?" he said. "Of course, your uncle would want to have to marry _me_."

Madison gave John a bit of a look. "Sometimes you don't always notice things, do you, Uncle John?" she said.

He blinked at her. Damn, how did _everybody_ always notice that about him?

She patted the back of his hand. "It's okay. You'll figure it out eventually," she said. "Read me the story about the Unicorn and the Dragon again, okay?" she asked, settling down in the bed and closing her eyes. "And make sure you do the voices."

***

Seeing Elizabeth again--even if she was a Replicator--was like a punch to the gut. For all of them, of course. John had never said it--never told her--but she'd been his closest friend. He'd loved her. He'd needed her.

He'd lost her all over again.

But they'd struck against the Replicators. Even if it had meant that uneasy alliance with the Wraith. And Larrin again (Rodney'd never let John live it down).

As it was, John hadn't exactly forgotten that conversation with Madison, but things were a little bit too insane once they returned to Atlantis from Earth. He had to push it to the back of his mind. And sometimes, he had a hard time believing that Rodney wanted to marry him. Sometimes he wondered if Rodney even wanted to _stay_ with him. Every time Katie Brown turned up...


	7. Chapter 7

They weren't going anywhere. The silence was frosty. John stalked back to the door and tried to force it open with his bare hands.

"The doors are meant to keep a Wraith out. Do you really, honestly think that's going to work?"

It didn't hurt to try. John snarled with the effort of trying to get the door open. And then he stopped. And kicked the door, just for good measure.

"Good _God_ you're stubborn," Rodney said. "Just stop it. That's not helping."

John stalked the room. Rodney's voice was grating today. And then he turned and stared at Rodney.

"Don't even think about it," Rodney snapped.

"Don't _tell me_ what to do," John said.

"Don't tell me what to do when I tell you what to do!" Rodney shot back, glaring at John. "I'm not one of your wolves, and it's not my fault we're trapped in here."

John moved toward him. "Yeah? You sure you haven't been playing with some system and oops! Now we're all locked in and communications are down?"

Rodney gave him a Look. "If I was going to lock us in a room, I would have made sure that I had a computer, so that once it inevitably got to the point where you frustrated me so much that I wanted to _drown you_ , I could at least manage to escape on my own. I certainly wouldn't have locked us in a room that was an allergist's wet dream!"

John turned away from him again. There was a little cactus-like plant nearby that he was deeply tempted to knock over. "Katie Brown was here," he snarled. "She must have left just moments before I got here. I can still smell her."

"Well, she _is_ a botanist," Rodney said, in his very best 'duh' voice. "She works with plants."

"You came here to see her!"

"Are you _aware_ that you're a total lunatic?" Rodney demanded. "I mean, do you wake up in the morning, push away the loose copies of _Guns and Ammo_ , and go 'wow, I really am a complete and total insane person'?"

John's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He stalked past Rodney again and threw himself bodily at the door, trying very, very hard to break it down.

"Oh would you _just stop_ and say whatever it is that's pissing you off so much?" Rodney demanded. "I've been considerably more annoying before than I'm being right now. Fine. I'll stop being pissed off that you left hair in the sink again. Okay? I'm over it. Now stop denting the architecture!"

John whirled around. Though the words were snarled out at Rodney through clenched teeth, his impersonation of Rodney's tone and inflection was bang on: "Your ego is unbelievable, you know that? Even when you're kidnapped, they look and act like you."

Rodney stared at John. "You're mad about _that_?" he said incredulously.

***

If Ronon knew that he'd been doing exactly what his alpha had been trying up in one of the botany labs, and that John was having absolutely zero success in prying the door open with his bare hands--

Well, he'd probably keep on trying it anyway. He let out a howl of frustration and stepped back.

Jennifer Keller'd learned a lot more about werewolves since she'd come to Atlantis. Like how being afraid when you were around them was a really bad idea, and didn't really help the situation much.

She also thought that whoever came up with the advice 'don't be afraid when you're trapped in a room with a really angry werewolf' was a complete idiot.

Ronon whirled around and stalked through the immediate vicinity in the infirmary. And then back to the door. And then stalked a little bit more. And then back to the door, which received a violent kick when it still stubbornly refused to open.

"Maybe... maybe we should try something else," Jennifer suggested hesitantly. "I just... I really don't want you to get hurt, and I don't think that door's going anywhere without some kind of explosive device."

He turned and looked at her. Blinked a few times. Then his eyes lit up. "What've you got explosive?" he asked.

Her eyes went very wide, and she unintentionally looked right at the oxygen tanks. "Um?"

He grinned broadly. "Gotcha."

***

John paced back and forth in front of the doorway. "She's nothing like me. Nothing at all!"

"You do realise that I made that comment days ago, right? Longer?"

"Nothing!"

Rodney sighed loudly. "John, she showed up here, and I swear to God, I know that wasn't what happened, but she was _acting_ like the two of you spent the entire time you were kidnapped having a lot of _sex_. Forgive me for being a little bit bitchy."

John growled. "We didn't. You should know, Rodney--you should know by now--I would _never_!"

"Are you even _listening_ to me?" Rodney sounded exasperated. "I just said--I _just said_ \--I know that wasn't what happened, but that was how she was acting! And you're mine, damn it!" He blinked. Not something he exactly meant to say, at least not like that.

"Of course I am!" John yelled.

"I _know_ that!" Rodney yelled just as loudly as John did. "And the next time someone thinks that they have the right to be all... like she was being, I'm gonna feed them to Ronon, okay?"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Good!"

***

Ronon tilted his head back against the infirmary bed he and Jennifer leaned against. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded, turning to look at him. "Of course."

"Are you afraid of Sheppard?"

Jennifer opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again, hesitating for a long few moments before nodding, just once.

"Why?" Ronon's voice was suddenly very gentle.

"It's stupid," she said. "It's been ever since those nightmares. And I can't shake it. And I feel awful, because obviously it shows, if you noticed, but I can't make it go away."

"He'd never hurt you." Ronon paused. "Unless you hurt McKay."

"I think he'd tear Atlantis down to its foundations if someone hurt Rodney," Jennifer said wryly.

"Might tear down the galaxy," Ronon said. "But you really don't have anything to fear from him."

"I know," she said, sighing at herself. "It's stupid. I mean... it's not because he's a werewolf. I'm not afraid of you."

Ronon flashed her a quick grin. "No? Everybody says I'm the one to be afraid of."

"I'm not saying that you aren't capable of being scary or dangerous, but there's more to you than that," Jennifer said. And she blushed, which made her feel like an idiot.

He shifted a bit more and reached out. His fingers were very gentle as he tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Which didn't make her blush any less. "You're kind," she said quietly. "You care about people. More people should notice that."

"And you're stronger than you look," he said. "I thought you were weak. You're not."

"You don't think so?" She still thought she was, a lot of the time.

He shook his head. "Not anymore."

"Why not?"

"You told me to stop trying to break my body with the door," he said. "You helped with the oxygen tanks. It didn't work, but we tried it."

"And we didn't even get blown up," she added.

"Which I think we can call a win."

"Me too," Jennifer said, smiling.

He grinned. That bit of hair had fallen loose again. He pushed it back. "Dr Keller.... Jennifer. I--"

The lights went out. That was never a good sign.

***

John lifted his head, panting. "Rodney? Did the lights go out, or am I unconscious?"

"Uh... not unconscious," Rodney said. "Crap. That's never a good sign."

"Where the hell did I put my clothes?" John crawled away from Rodney.

"I don't know," Rodney admitted. "They went that way," he made a gesture that couldn't be seen, because the lights were out, "and to be honest, I think I heard something rip."

"Crap. Rodney, what the hell is going on out there?" He came across a pair of pants. Judging by the length, they were his. And they were not exactly in one piece. Crap.

That was when the self-destruct started to sound.

***

John insisted that Rodney personally thank Sam, Lorne, Teyla, Radek, and Chuck for their good work in saving their asses.

Rodney usually needed a push in the right direction with those things.

***

With Colonel Carter still in the infirmary after being stuck in an underground cavern with Rodney and Dr Keller, John sort of had to suck up his continuing role of taking on her duties.

Of course, right now "taking on her duties" meant he was sitting at her desk playing minesweeper.

"If you screw up my win percentage, we're going to have to have an abrupt conversation, Sheppard."

He looked guilty. Then he looked confused. Then he looked some combination of guilty-confused. "You're supposed to still be in the infirmary with Rodney and Keller," he said.

"Privileges of being the boss. And a wolf." She actually looked a bit sheepish before she continued, "And sneaking out when the on-duty doctor wasn't paying attention. He's not nearly so vigilant about these things as Dr Keller is."

"Why Colonel Carter," John said, "sneaking out despite doctor's orders? Should I write you up for that one?"

"You could try, but the file on you doing it is the second thickest in Atlantis," she said, coming inside and closing the door, then going to sit, quite comfortably (despite her injuries) in the chair across from him. "Ronon's first, obviously."

"You noticed," John said.

"Hard not to," she said. "And I reviewed all the files on every member of the Atlantis expedition when I got this job."

"I would expect nothing less," John said with a little nod of his head.

She nodded, and went quiet for a few moments. "You know... he saved all of our lives down there," Sam said. "The McKay I knew, back when I first knew him, would have just curled up in a corner and hyperventilated to death, before anything else could kill us."

John smiled a little. "He hasn't been that McKay for a long time."

"I know that now. I think I actually knew that before, but I didn't recognise it. That time when we recruited Jeannie," she said. "I kept seeing him as that guy who'd always had an inappropriate crush on me... and I missed the part where he hasn't been that McKay for a long time either." She looked at John and smiled. "He doesn't want me any more... probably hasn't for a long time. All he could think about--well, besides the number of horrible ways we could die--was getting us all out safely, and getting back to Atlantis--and you."

John sat back. He looked down for a moment, then across at Sam again. "Back to me, huh?" So help him, he actually looked bashful. "He's changed a lot in the past four years. I can't take much credit for it since it took me a year to make my move, but... he's changed."

"I can see that," Sam said. "Believe me. And I'm sorry if I was still seeing him as the guy I knew from before--a guy that to be honest, I didn't really know well enough to be judging as much as I did."

"He's easy to judge," John admitted. "He makes me absolutely insane sometimes."

"I can imagine," Sam said. Actually, she didn't have to imagine--she'd heard tell of the epic arguments. "Still. It works, doesn't it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it does." For a moment he was tempted to ask her how she managed to hold it together being separated from Colonel Mitchell, but it was too personal for him. A little too far on the touchy-feely scale. "We've somehow managed. When we were in Vancouver, his niece pestered me every night to marry him."

"So why haven't you?" Her eyebrow went up.

John proceeded to do his very best wolf-in-headlights impression.

Sam laughed, then grimaced. Clearly she wasn't quite healed enough for a belly laugh just yet. "Oh, John--the look on your _face_."

He blushed. "Uh..."

She laughed again, even though it caused a bit of a yelp of pain, eyes tearing up just a little. Of all the things that she expected when she came to Atlantis, it wasn't going to be that the military commander--and Alpha of the wolf pack--and Rodney McKay were a pair of smitten kittens.

He immediately looked concerned. "Colonel," he said, "you really should be in bed. I know you'll heal, but you'll heal even faster if you rest."

She waved him off, coughing a couple of times before she composed herself. "I'm fine--really, I'm fine. They haven't even noticed I'm gone."

There was a light knock on the door, then Chuck poked his head in. "Colonel Carter?" he said. "Dr Burke says you're supposed to be in bed."

Sam winced. "Or maybe they have," she said. "How did he know I was here?" she asked Chuck.

"He figured you'd want to check on how Colonel Sheppard's doing," Chuck replied with a little smile.

Maybe Dr Burke was better than Sam had originally thought. "Looks like I'm due back at the infirmary," she said, only a hint of stiffness showing when she stood up.

"I'll walk you there," John said. "I'm ready to turn in for the night anyway, and I should stop in and see Rodney or he'll just sulk at everyone."

"You're a hero for the kids, John Sheppard."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We can make me a medal later." He shut off the lights in the office and held the door for Sam. "I was worried, you know. When you arrived."

"Because I'm a wolf, and I was taking charge?" she said.

"Because of the way Rodney felt about you."

 _Ah._ "I was never a threat to you, John," she said. "You know that, right?"

"Well, I do now," he said.

It took long enough, but he realised that really? Sam Carter was okay. More than.

***

When Rodney was released from the infirmary, John lectured him for what felt like forever about the importance of not falling into mine shafts.

Really, forever. Three whole minutes before he pounced on him.

***

Lorne rested his hand on Teyla's belly. "Quite the kick," he said a moment later, beaming proudly.

She smiled at him, then reached down to touch his cheek. "I like that look on your face," she murmured.

He peered up at her. "Which look?" he asked.

"That proud, _fatherly_ look."

"I can't wait to meet him, Teyla. He helped you stand up to and influence a Wraith Queen. He's already remarkable."

"Of course he is," Teyla said, and there was pride in her expression. "He's ours."

Lorne slipped up the bed and brushed Teyla's hair back from her face. "Missed you today. It's getting harder to go out and leave you behind."

"It's hard being left behind," Teyla said. "I know. I know it was my choice, and it was the right choice, but it isn't easy."

He nodded. "And I was warned. I knew that I would start to find it difficult to leave your side. I hope you--I hope it doesn't offend you, but going off-world is starting to become a problem for me. I want to stay here with you and that need is going to start getting more powerful."

Teyla looked at him and gave him a strange little half-smile. "Is it supposed to offend me that you want to be around me?" she said, teasing just a little.

He huffed out a little sigh, smiling back at her. "I was afraid you would think I was being overly protective."

"You are. You're also a wolf, and it's to be expected." She paused for a moment. "And, as much as you want to, you know that you're not really going to do it," she said softly. "You have a responsibility to your team, and to your Alpha."

"Well, that's the thing," Lorne said, slowly. "Colonel Sheppard wants to have a meeting with me in the morning. He's either going to tell me to get my head in the game, or bench me until after the baby is born." He paused, then added, "I could end up doing all of his paperwork for the next few months."

It was serious, really, and yet... "Don't you already do all of his paperwork?"

"Not... all of it," he said.

Teyla's eyebrow went up, just a bit.

"Really."

"Hmm," Teyla murmured. "All right. But really... what do you think you're going to do?" she asked. "Do you really think that you're going to feel less possessive, less protective, once the baby's been born? You'll have a child then, Evan."

"Well--no--but. That'll be different. I think."

She touched his cheek. "Think about it," she said. "Make the decision that's right for you. But remember--I can take care of myself. You know that." She smiled. "Trust me to take care of our baby, when you can't be here."

"I do trust you." He took her hand and kissed her palm. "I always will."

She smiled and leaned down for a kiss. "Good boy," she whispered.

He growled playfully. "Now," he said, "if you'll excuse me, I can't resist the change any longer and I really like these pants."

Teyla laughed. "I'll come watch the first part," she teased.

***

John benched Lorne the following morning, for the duration of Teyla's pregnancy. He wanted Lorne to spend more time working with Colonel Carter, too, learning more of the ins and outs of the day-to-day of Atlantis.

Lorne, ultimately, didn't mind. He got to stay home with Teyla, and that was what mattered most to him. The closer Teyla got to her due date, the more he wanted to nest.

He became obsessive about the cleanliness of their quarters.

Rodney wondered aloud, once, when he would get to the point that finding a single speck of dust would send him into some sort literal of frothing rage.

John kicked him under the table.

***

Teyla was gone.

The universe got its 'I told you so' rights.

Especially for the toll this took on John's second. He'd never, no matter how much longer he lived, forget the moment when the gate activated, and Lorne was literally dragged through, kicking and screaming, by his team. When the gate closed, Lorne changed into a wolf. The combined efforts of Lorne's team, John, and Sam hadn't been able to stop him.

Thank God Ronon was a good shot; he'd showed up and stunned Lorne.

***

John sat down heavily. "Keller sedated Lorne," he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Well what do you know... the Genii were good for something," Rodney said bitterly. He was exhausted. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. He closed his eyes for a few moments, then forced them open. He couldn't take time to sleep right now. "You didn't have a choice. There's nothing he can do to help right now, and you don't need the collateral damage he could cause."

"You want me to stay with him for a while?" Ronon asked. "Give you a chance to get some rest."

"No," John said. He forced himself back to his feet, shaking his head as if to clear cobwebs. "No, I'll get back to command, keep co-ordinating with search efforts."

"John," Rodney said, very softly. "Until..." he paused, cleared his throat. "Until we get her back, and Lorne's himself again, Ronon's your second. Let him help, so that you can lead when we need you. The trail's cold for the moment. The second it isn't, we're going to need you at the top of your game. _Please_." Rodney didn't say please very often. Not even to John.

John looked between them, very prepared to be stubborn. "Let me at least check in with Colonel Carter," he said.

Ronon stood, looming over him. "You need to sleep," he said.

John frowned up at him.

Ronon stared.

John frowned.

Ronon didn't even blink.

John _sighed_.

"Thanks, Ronon," Rodney said, groaning as he forced himself up. "I'll take it from here," he said, taking John's arm. "C'mon."

John muttered and grumbled the entire way to their quarters. But he let Rodney get him there, and get him out of his boots, and get him down onto the bed. "Rodney?"

"I'm not changing my mind, John--you need to _sleep_ ," Rodney said, turned away from John, his voice suspiciously tight.

"Rodney."

He went quiet for a few moments. "John?"

"I'm going to rip Michael limb from limb for hurting my family."

Rodney turned around to look at John, and when he did, his eyes were hard. Dangerous. "Do it slowly."

"You've got it." John held out a hand to Rodney. "We'll find her and bring her home."

He took two steps over to John, bypassing his hand entirely and wrapping him up in a tight hug, hard enough to hurt anyone but a werewolf. "Both of them," he whispered.

"Both of them," John echoed, hugging Rodney back, though not as hard as Rodney hugged him. "I promise."

Rodney didn't say anything. He couldn't. He just held on tighter, and nodded. He believed him.

He had to.

***

He was Carson.

He smelled like Carson. Looked like Carson. Sounded like Carson. Had his memories.

But he wasn't their Carson.

That was particularly evident when he admitted that he hadn't been able to turn on Michael, allowing Michael to get away with Teyla.

Again.

John had, by this time, had quite enough of that. He was done with it. He wasn't losing any more of his people. He hated what it did to him, he hated what it did to his team and his pack.

He hated what it did to Rodney. Not that Rodney was inconsolable. He didn't do things that way. Sometimes, John thought but would never say out loud, it might be easier if Rodney was a human female who would just _cry_. He could deal with tears. But Rodney just went about his business as much as possible, even when John knew that he was in pain. And John didn't know what to do about it. He changed, let the wolf curl up with his mate, licked his face, kept him warm. Kept him company.

And they waited. Every minute felt like a year.

***

John peered down into the observation room. "Doc, I'm not sure you're going to want to stick around once you let me in there."

"I'll be up here--I'll be fine." Keller looked a little nervous. "Someone's got to keep watch over you. Bad enough that the whole pack is picking up on your energy," she said. Ronon would have his work cut out for him keeping _that_ under control.

"Are you sure?" John asked, wanting to give her the out.

She looked at him, expression steady. She wasn't the frightened little girl who Elizabeth promoted to Chief Medical Officer any more. "Go," she said softly. "Take care of him."

John nodded. "Okay," he said. Another nod. Then he gave her shoulder a little squeeze and and headed down to the room. He shed his clothes in the hall. "Doc? I'm ready." He changed into a wolf just as the door opened. It slid shut behind him when he entered the room.

The fight was ugly, brutal, and blissfully short. The effects of the sedative wore off quickly, and John certainly had his work cut out for him, but it didn't take long for him to have Lorne on the floor, flashing belly. John backed off, one step at a time, teeth still bared until he was certain that Lorne wasn't going to keep fighting.

He changed back and waited.

Lorne's change took longer. He'd stayed wolf the entire time he'd been sedated, and he was exhausted, thinner and paler than John'd ever seen him. When his change was finished, he didn't get up from the floor, but stayed right where he was.

John sat down on one of the chairs. He was still naked, but wolves really didn't have much use for being prudish about nudity. "We good?" he asked.

Lorne nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, voice hoarse.

"Good. Get up and talk to me."

John was the Alpha. Exhausted and hurt or not, heartbroken or not, Lorne had only two choices--listen to him, or fight him again. Lorne got up.

"I need you back. This has gone on long enough." John put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, staring hard at Lorne. " _They_ need you. What good have you been for Teyla and your son?"

His lip curled and he glared at John, just for a moment, but he couldn't hold the expression. "I know," he said, voice still rough. "I know."

"Yeah? Do you?" John's eyes narrowed. "It's awfully hard to get you on board with things when you've been a wolf the entire time she's been missing--" he started counting off points on his fingers, "refused to change back into a human, bitten four nurses, tore up three beds in the infirmary, and injured six marines. I have to write you up for all of that. You know how much I hate paperwork." A hundred and nine, and his penmanship was still atrocious.

Of course, it would be the paperwork that John complained about. That part almost got a smile out of Lorne. Almost. "So much for my spotless record," he said, forcing himself a bit more upright. But John was right, and Lorne knew it. Time to stop feeling sorry for himself, get up off the mat, and go find his mate and his child. Still, there was one thing he needed to take care of. "I need you to make me a promise."

John nodded. "If it's in my power to make it, Evan, you know I will. What do you need?" he asked. He'd told Lorne what he needed; Lorne had every right to make a demand, too.

He looked at his hands for a long few moments. "If something happens," he said, keeping his voice carefully even, his fear and his anger, his temper under control. "If we don't... if it goes bad. If we lose them... " He had to stop, needed a deep breath before he could keep going, just praying John didn't interrupt him before he got it out. "If that happens, you put me down, Sheppard. Don't hesitate. Don't assume that you'll be able to get me back. You won't." He looked up at Sheppard, letting him see how serious he was. "If they die, you kill me. Don't let what would happen next happen."

'Berserk' would be a mild word to describe what would happen. John had been around long enough to see a wolf lose a family. Killing Lorne would be a mercy, because he'd never be in control of the wolf again.

John got to his feet. "You have my word, Major," he said, solemnly.

Lorne nodded once, then stood up, offering John his hand. "Then you've got me back. Sir."

***

It was always John and Rodney, in the end.

Even if Rodney was an old man, even if Rodney was a _hologram_ , they always found each other, even tens of thousands of years in the future.

They never found Teyla. Lorne went mad. Ronon had to put him down.

Despite being Alpha, Ronon left Atlantis to put together a strike force. A lot of people volunteered to be turned into wolves. He managed to turn rather a lot of them; surprisingly--or perhaps not--the vast majority of Genii volunteers survived the change.

Ronon died, alongside Todd-the-Wraith, blowing up one of Michael's facilities.

Rodney and Sam rushed to complete work on a new ship, _The Phoenix_. Sam died in battle against three of Michael's hive ships. She saved most of her crew--and took out all three ships. Rodney personally went to give condolences to Colonel Cameron Mitchell and Vala Mal Doran. Mitchell was never quite the same; it was hard enough for him having Sam in another galaxy, but losing her completely was hard. Almost devastating. He still had Vala--but, really, she was never the same, either.

"Wait," John said. "Wait. You went personally?"

Rodney--the hologram of Rodney--nodded. "I wasn't able to stay in Atlantis. The only family I had left was on Earth. My _pack_ was gone."

John didn't know what to say. After a pause, Rodney resumed his story.

Keller returned to Earth with Rodney, unable to watch the Pegasus galaxy suffer and die.

Rodney started working in a research firm. He and Keller stayed in touch. They got together for coffee--Keller kept tabs on Rodney to make sure he didn't just shut off from the world over having lost John. Probably, Rodney suspected, at General O'Neill's insistence. Wolves. Sometimes they were too perceptive for everyone's good. One afternoon while Keller was checking up on Rodney, he started talking--in the middle of a Starbucks--about the possibility of changing history. Of getting John back. She gave him "you are crazy" face.

Then started coughing blood. She was dying. The Hoffan drug.

She was the only person left from Atlantis. Or, at least, the only person in his life. Rodney decided he'd had more than enough.

He couldn't save Keller. He couldn't save Ronon. He couldn't save Sam. He couldn't save Lorne. He couldn't save Teyla and the baby.

But he was going to save John.

Because if Rodney could save John, John could save everyone.

John may have thought he was the big, bad wolf, but Rodney knew better.

John Sheppard was the Alpha of the Atlantis pack. He was special. And Rodney loved him. Rodney was going to save him, if it was the last thing he did. Atlantis may have been gone, but Rodney did still have a friend at the SGC: General O'Neill.

(Damn wolves. They never aged.)

And now here they were. Rodney was just a hologram. They couldn't touch each other. Just as John was about to step into the stasis chamber, Rodney looked at him. Rodney, with his grey hair and his deeply lined face--too many worries--and his old-man cardigan. He stopped, and he looked at John, and he said, softly, "You always were beautiful." And then he looked bashful, and stepped back.

John would always go home to Rodney. He just had to sleep a while first.

The (big, bad) wolf was going to save them all.

***

 _"You don't remember rescuing her because you didn't. Just like you never rescued me."_

Ronon wouldn't leave John's side. Damn stubborn pup. Ronon should go and save himself. John couldn't exactly heal from these injuries on his own. Sometime in the past century, somebody should have warned him that having a building explode and drop on his head and a metal spike impale his side wasn't something that even an Alpha could bounce back from.

***

Lorne was able to change in the infirmary to speed along his healing; John would need more time.

They didn't have time.

Despite getting warned, despite being yelled at, he refused to stay behind when the opportunity arose to sneak onto Michael's cruiser to rescue Teyla.

***

Of course Michael had built a cage that could hold a werewolf--or at least, could hold a werewolf for a while. There was very little that was guaranteed when it came to keeping a werewolf locked up permanently. But for now, everything was holding together, not that it stopped Lorne from trying. Not that it kept him from throwing his body against the bars, from trying to tear them apart.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that whatever Carson had known about werewolves, Michael knew too. And Carson knew a _lot_. Lorne knew that.

He still didn't stop trying to escape.

"Major Lorne." Michael appeared from around the corner. He regarded the enraged wolf for a moment. "You will not break free. Trying to hunt for Teyla as a wolf was a mistake. We were prepared for you, as you can see. Now, change back into a human. I would have a civilised conversation with you."

Fury flared up in Lorne's eyes, and he charged at Michael, slamming himself into the bars of the cage as he tried to go straight through it to get to him.

Michael regarded him calmly. "I have Teyla and your child. Do you wish to see them again?" he asked, as if this was all terribly reasonable.

Lorne stood up, slowly and painfully, curling his lip at Michael. As far as Lorne was concerned, Michael was already dead... just temporarily breathing.

"I am not afraid of you. I have methods of dealing with you wolves. Dr Beckett was very helpful to me."

No... he wouldn't be afraid, would he? Not with Lorne trapped behind metal bars as thick as Ronon's arms. He stared back at him, then turned his back on Michael entirely, dismissing him as he changed forms. Risky, yes. But Michael didn't trap him in a cage just to kill him.

"There. Was that so hard?" Michael had perfected 'condescending'. "I can keep you alive. Your child will be remarkable. Having you here gives me reason to keep Teyla alive."

The condescending tone grated like claws on a chalkboard, but it was Michael daring to say Teyla's name, to speak about their child, that had him ready to throw himself at he cage again. "You're dead. You do know that, don't you? You're walking, you're standing, but you are dead."

"I'll bear that in mind," said Michael. "Do keep calm, Major. If you want to see Teyla alive again, you'll want to behave yourself." He took one very deliberate step forward. "It's almost time. You should be able to smell that."

He didn't have to be a wolf in order to growl low at Michael, pushing down the rising panic he could feel within himself. Because Michael was right--he could.

Almost time.

"I can keep you alive, Major," Michael said. "Let you remain with Teyla. You may even have the opportunity to see your son and other children from time to time. You'll be very valuable to me. But I expect your co-operation. Think on it a while." He turned to leave, then half-turned back to Lorne so that he could see his profile. "I understand that your excellent hearing should allow you to hear your son's cries when he is born. Try not to cause yourself too much harm when that happens."

Lorne's howl, even torn as it was from a human throat, followed Michael out of the room.

The tears on his cheeks were just for him.

***

The growls turned to snarls--turned to screams of pain from Michael's hybrids. Then Ronon rounded the corner, naked, but armed. "Lorne," he said, by way of greeting. He shot out the controls to the cage.

Lorne didn't pause for a second, shoving the door open the second Ronon fired at the cage and breaking off in a dead run.

"Go!" Ronon shouted, though there really was no need. He changed back into a wolf, picked up his gun in his teeth, and took off behind Lorne.

They could hear Teyla; then, after, another cry. A new voice. A new scent. The baby.

Lorne shifted back into human form as soon as he reached Teyla's side.

"Now? You show up _now_?" Rodney exclaimed, over the sound of the screaming baby he was trying to wrap up. "Impeccable timing, Major Lorne--really," he said, with a look of relief on his face, and a grin the size of the Milky Way.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Lorne said. He reached for the baby, took him from Rodney, and then gave him to Teyla. He shifted closer, his arms going around both of them.

"You're here," Teyla said, holding her son, unashamed of the tears on her face. "You came. That's all that matters."

Rodney was muttering to himself the whole time, but it didn't matter. It was all nerves and adrenaline and disbelief tumbling over each other. They found Teyla. The baby was safe. The baby was born.

***

Despite the win, there were two things on John's list of things that were not good. The first and foremost of which was the fact that the Jumper had been stolen.

The other was Carter's reassignment.

All right, a third: Woolsey. John had never met a more ordinary ordinary human.


	8. Chapter 8

There and gone again.

John didn't like saying goodbye to his own people. No matter what, Carson was his own people.

***

John sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and leaned down to untie his boots.

Or, well, at least he tried. He groaned, put a hand over his midsection, then just flopped over onto his back. "Dammit," he muttered.

"You know... there's this thing that you can do. It's called Asking For Help. I hear that when you do it? Sometimes? People actually _help you_. Particularly when you've been stabbed through the stomach. Want me to get you a book on tape?"

"That was yesterday," John groused. "And I got my boots _on_ , I should be able to get them off." He didn't try to move. Or ask for help.

"Off is more difficult, and boots were a stupid choice," Rodney pointed out.

John _sighed_. "Hey, Rodney? Do you think you could help me get out of my clothes? I'm having trouble."

"Yes. I would be glad to assist you in getting naked."

John let Rodney help him out of his clothes. He settled down in their bed with a sigh and closed his eyes. "I miss our man-witch." Those kind of declarations weren't exactly in-character for John. He wanted Rodney to talk.

Which was probably why Rodney gave him a strange look. "Our old one who died, or the one who looks just like him, but isn't him, except that he is?" he asked.

"All of the above."

Rodney sighed. "I miss my friend," he said, flopping down on the bed next to John, looking up at the ceiling. "Can I say something without you laughing at me?"

John shifted so that his arm was pressed alongside Rodney's. "I won't laugh."

"Sometimes... I feel really, really old."

John knew that feeling really, really well. "I understand."

"Yeah, but you actually are old," Rodney said, with his usual bluntness. "I'm your cradle-robbed boyfriend."

"True. You're practically a baby," John said dryly.

"I am," Rodney said, sniffing arrogantly. "I'm a young, beautiful genius. You're lucky my sister hasn't come after you with a shotgun."

John laughed softly. "Believe me, I count my blessings about that every single day I haven't been shot full of holes."

"She could still find one. She's very violent for a pacifist married to a white witch, have you noticed that?"

John looked at Rodney with a furrowed brow. "Uh... no, I haven't. I think she's very sweet."

Rodney snorted. Loudly. "She _hits_."

"Sure." John looked up at the ceiling again. "Rodney--are you okay?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"No. But I think I will be. Just... give me some time to get there."

"Okay," John said, softly. He pushed his arm under Rodney's shoulders and, with a pained-sounding little grunt, pulled Rodney in nice and close. "Let me take care of you a little bit."

"You _do_ know that you're the big bad wolf who has a hole in his gut, right?" Rodney said, even as he settled into John's arms. "I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be taking care of you."

"Probably. But since when did I ever do what was really expected of me?"

Rodney snorted. "That would be _never_."

***

If the bad guys didn't stop kidnapping members of his team, John would be forced to break something.

Actually, he did break something. He never liked that chair, anyway.

When they got Ronon back, he spent a lot of time at his side. It wasn't long before Ronon was lucid enough to discover that the pain wasn't quite so bad if he changed into a wolf. He spent rather a lot of time that way for a while.

And, according to Rodney who had joined him in bed very late one night after working, he spotted Ronon-the-wolf getting quite a _lot_ of scritches from Dr Keller when Rodney had made a detour into the infirmary for some ailment or other that John was certain he wasn't at all suffering from, considering what they ended up getting up to once Rodney stopped gossiping. Or rather, once John pounced on Rodney to get him to stop gossiping.

***

John could smell Keller on Ronon.

He approved.

He didn't say anything; he and Ronon didn't really get all touchy-feely with each other. When Ronon was ready, when he and Keller knew exactly where they were now that they'd found each other properly--and honestly, it took them long enough--then it would be time for Ronon to approach John and let him know formally. Until then, John watched. Listened. Enjoyed their happiness.

Enjoyed Lorne and Teyla's happiness. Embraced the newest and littlest member of the pack, even when Torren threw up on him.

And there was Rodney.

One of these days, John would make an honest man out of McKay. He'd get up the nerve. He'd ask.

***

"I guess that answers the question as to whether that was really Elizabeth."

John stayed where he was for some time after the others had walked away from the gate. He stood there, seeming to wait for something. No one approached the still, quiet Alpha.

Eventually he turned and walked away. Had a long shower. Tried not to think too hard.

How many times could he be expected to lose someone he loved?

***

Ronon was still with a nurse. John held the cotton ball to his own arm and approached Rodney's bedside, where Jennifer was still checking him over. Teyla stood at the other side of the bed. John smiled--he couldn't help it. Rodney was sitting up, looking happy as could be. It was as if he hadn't spent nine hours unconscious in the back of a Puddle Jumper.

"Well, how's my boy?" John asked. He rested his hand on Rodney's leg.

Jennifer actually beat Rodney to a response. "Nothing's coming up on the scans--as far as I can tell, there's nothing wrong with him."

"Good," John said. Of course, it was pretty easy to tell just from looking at Rodney that the fever was gone, and hypothermia was a distant worry. "You had me worried, Rodney. I thought we agreed that we don't like it when I'm worried."

"No, we don't," Rodney said. "You start sniffing me more when you're worried, and it's disconcerting, and looks strange in public. Can I go?" he asked, already starting to move the blanket aside that was covering his lap.

"Not so fast," Jennifer said. "Let's be sure before you go running off."

Ronon, who had stealthily appeared out of nowhere, stepped in past Jennifer to urge Rodney back into bed with a stern sort of look on his face. When he stepped back, he stood behind Jennifer, a little closer than was perhaps professionally necessary.

Rodney huffed out a loud sigh. "She just said I was fine!"

"I said as far as I can tell," Jennifer corrected. "I'm not done checking yet."

John patted Rodney's leg. "Let's make sure you're better," he said. "I'll be back in a little while, okay? The three of us will debrief with Woolsey. Oh, did I mention--he wants to send out a MALP before every transit now."

Rodney snorted loudly, settling back in his bed. "I give it... a week. No, two," he said. "Woolsey's stubborn."

John laughed. "Yeah, we'll see whose patience runs out first. I'll be back, Rodney."

***

"Hey." John reached out and put his hand on the back of Rodney's neck, fingers lightly teasing through his hair. "If you're this hungry, you must be fine," he teased, looking down at the tray on Rodney's lap.

Rodney made a face at John, but grinned immediately after. "Want some?" he asked, offering his tray.

John blinked. "I'm... what?"

"Want some?" Rodney repeated, focusing on the tray of food, not seeing John's expression. "There's lots, we can get more, and you never eat enough. Nobody likes a skinny wolf, John. They're crabby."

John bristled. "I'm not skinny," he protested. Rodney had never once, in all this time, offered to share food with John. He had, in fact, often eyeballed John's food once he was done with his own until John gave him something.

"And let's keep it that way," Rodney said. He picked up the fruit cup off his tray and held it out, showing it to John like it was a puppy treat or something, a wicked look in his eyes. "Mmm... peaches. Don't you want the peaches? And look-- _cherries_!"

John did love the fruit cups with the cherries in them. But still, Rodney never, ever, shared. He squinted suspiciously at him. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Nothing," Rodney said, shaking the fruit cup again, and smiling at John. "Eat the fruit cup."

Oh that smile. That crooked, delightful smile John liked so much. He perched on the edge of Rodney's bed and took the fruit cup and a spoon. "I can't resist peaches for very long," he said, smiling at Rodney.

"I know," Rodney said, grinning at him. "I'm beginning to know all your secrets, Colonel Poodle-face."

***

"What did you just call me?" John asked, looking at Rodney in surprise.

"What?" Rodney asked, not looking up from what he was doing. "Oh, please, it's not like I never call you by your title, John. You think it's hot."

"Well--well, yes, I do--but you called me 'major'."

Rodney frowned, and turned back away from his computer. "I did? No... I said 'colonel'."

"No, you called me 'major'. Trust me."

"Huh." Rodney frowned more, then shrugged and went back to his computer. "Must have been reminiscing. Pass me that tablet, would you, please?" he asked, gesturing to one that was just out of reach.

John handed it over. "So how much longer?" he asked, then leaned against Rodney's desk. He made sure he could stand very, very close. Rodney smelled so _good_ right now.

Rodney made a very contented sound. "Well before the moon hits, I promise," he said. "Actually... five minutes? Just let me finish this thought, and I'm all yours."

John slipped his arm around Rodney's back and leaned in to sniff his neck. "Promise."

He laughed and tilted his head back. "I promise--five minutes. Five minutes, and you can sniff me all you want."

John laughed, too. "So I suppose I should stop hanging all over you and let you work..."

"Yes. Five minutes," Rodney repeated. "That's all."

And the part that startled John? Five minutes later, Rodney saved his work and shut down his workstation. But despite the surprise, John beamed at Rodney. "C'mon. Full moon tonight. Want you first."

"You know what you are?" Rodney said, taking a couple of steps closer to John, a big grin on his face.

John stepped closer, too, a truly predatory grin on his face. "I bet I can guess." The word 'bossy' sprang to mind immediately.

"Sexy," Rodney supplied. "Very. I love you, John." He pressed closer and gave John a kiss. "Take me home."

John felt a little flutter in his belly. He couldn't really stop it. Normally the 'I love yous' came after sex--especially really good sex, but really, when wasn't it?--or when Rodney was tired, or scared, or there'd been a lot of yelling.

This was an entirely too-pleasant surprise. John took Rodney's hand. "Let's go, then."

***

Most full moons, John ran with his pack. But before he'd had to change, the sex had been incredible--definitely 'top five'. He hadn't wanted to leave Rodney's side. So he was curled up, fast asleep, tail over his nose, on the foot of their bed when Rodney had fallen asleep, too.

John was having a very nice dream--he was chasing things through a gorgeous forest--when he heard screaming. He woke instantly and was up on his feet, hackles raised, growling. It sounded very much as though someone was hurting Rodney.

About two-point-five seconds after that, Rodney pulled the trigger of John's sidearm, the gun aimed squarely at the wolf, despite Rodney's shaking hands.

He missed.

John didn't understand. Rodney was his mate. He leapt off the bed and to the floor, looking for the danger. There must be danger, for Rodney to be so frightened. He sniffed the air, but all he could smell was Rodney. Whatever was going on? He looked at Rodney again.

"Stay back--I'm telling you--stay _back_!" Rodney yelled, firing again.

John leapt away. He felt pain; smelled his own blood. Rodney had _shot_ him! Rodney was afraid--desperately afraid--of _him_. He ducked around the other side of the bed and held himself low to the ground.

"Colonel Sheppard, Dr McKay." It was Amelia Barnes' voice, from the control room. "Weapons fire has been detected in your quarters and a security team has been dispatched."

"Hurry--I need help, and Sheppard's missing!" Rodney yelled, hands shaking so hard it was a wonder he didn't drop the gun or eject the lip.

"Missing?" Barnes echoed.

"He's not here!" Rodney yelled. "Where's the security team--don't move!" He gestured angrily at John.

"They should be--"

The door opened. They had either been very close by, or had superhero speed. Either way, a small contingent of security personnel burst into the room.

"Dr McKay?" Johnstone. Her name was Johnstone. "What's going on?"

Another voice. Watanabe. "Medical team to Colonel Sheppard's quarters, the Colonel has been injured." He hurried past to crouch down beside John, who proceeded to growl and back away. His world was _wrong_ right now.

"What are you doing--don't get so close, it'll attack you!" Rodney said, still holding the gun. "Where's John?" he demanded.

Johnstone lowered her weapon. She looked deeply concerned. "Dr McKay," she said, slowly, as she stepped closer to him, "Colonel Sheppard's here. What--who--attacked you?"

"He's not here--there's just _that_!" Rodney said, gesturing at the wolf with the gun, shaking all over with fear. "I woke up and it was inches away--it was going to kill me!"

The security team looked around at each other. "Doctor, that _is_ Colonel Sheppard."

Even through his fear, Rodney was able to look at the crew as though they were complete idiots. "I think I would know if Major Sheppard was a _wolf_ ," he snapped. Then he paused. "Major. No. Not Major," he murmured, wrapping his free arm around himself. "Colonel. Lieutenant Colonel. I did it again. I..." He sank down onto the floor, unaware of the tears on his cheeks. He looked up after a moment or two. "What's wrong with me?"

***

By the time John could turn back into a human, his wound had healed. It was only a graze--it really didn't take long or require much attention. As soon as someone had given him some scrubs to put on, he made his way to Rodney's side. "Hey," he said, gently, taking Rodney's hand. "How are you feeling?"

Rodney didn't look up at him. "Well... I shot you. So there's that."

"Ah, you probably owed me for that time I bit you."

Rodney didn't smile.

John leaned down and kissed his forehead. It didn't matter who else was there--in fact, he could smell Ronon, Lorne, Teyla, Jennifer, and Woolsey nearby--he wasn't about to leave Rodney. "Hey. I'm fine. You're the one I'm worried about."

"I don't know what's going on," Rodney said. "I don't forget things. How am I forgetting things?"

"I'm sure Dr Keller will let us know," John said.

She had an answer. It just wasn't one that any of them were going to like. "John, maybe you should sit," she suggested, very softly.

John. She never used his name. He perched on the edge of Rodney's bed and absolutely, most definitely, did not let go.

***

It turned out that even while under a dread diagnosis, Rodney could still sleep, and sleep hard. At least for a little while at a time.

He woke up alone. That wasn't right. He wasn't alone. He had someone. He had... "John," he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment. That was right. It was right, wasn't it? He remembered. He remembered John--remembered that they were together, that he loved him.

But he wasn't there. And what started out as confusion shifted into panic as Rodney looked around the room, eyes adjusting to the dark, realising that John wasn't there. "John?" He pushed the blankets away, got out of bed, stumbled over the floor. It was real. It had to be real--it _couldn't not_ be real. "JOHN!" he yelled, staggering to the door and hitting the controls, blinking back from the light of the hallway. "JOHN!"

John rounded the corner at what could only be described as 'top speed' and even made the shift back into human mid-stride. "Rodney!" he exclaimed, "Rodney, I'm right here! What's wrong?"

"JOHN!" Rodney screamed his name one more time and sank down to his knees, tears on his cheeks as he settled onto the ground. He clutched at him, held on hard enough it would hurt his fingers. "You were gone. You weren't there, no one was there, and I thought... I didn't know if it was real," he whispered, voice hoarse, choked with emotion.

"I'm sorry," John whispered, crouched down on the floor with Rodney, his arms around him. "I thought you'd fallen asleep."

He held on tighter. "Tell me it's real," he begged. "Please, just... tell me it was all real. That we were real," he whispered.

"We were real. We _are_ real," John corrected. "I love you and I'm here for you."

Rodney laughed, but it was shaky. "I am so much better at this when you're the one who's in trouble." Because he never, ever believed that John wouldn't survive. And right now, he wasn't so sure about himself.

John kissed Rodney's forehead. "You know, you've mentioned that to me before."

"I'll take your word for it." The joke fell a little flat, as far as Rodney was concerned. "I don't... really want to go back to sleep," he admitted.

"You need to rest," John said. "Keep up your strength. Get better for me."

"John..." Rodney cleared his throat and looked away. "I don't... I'm not sure that's going to happen." No one was looking him in the eyes. They were being positive, and Jennifer was so convinced of her ability to fight this particular battle... but no one was looking him in the eyes when they said it.

"Don't say that," John said. "Don't you dare say that. You're going to get better. We're going to beat this thing--we beat _everything_ , don't we?"

"I don't..." Rodney smiled, and he reached out and touched John's cheek. "Do you know that sometimes, I actually love fighting with you?" he said softly. "Sometimes I piss you off on purpose." He was sure that he remembered that. He was sure; sure that was true.

That got a soft laugh out of John. "That doesn't surprise me. Now, I'm crouched here naked in the hall. It's a nice night out, though. I've got an idea, but first I need at least a pair of pants."

It meant not having to go to sleep. It meant more time with John. "I'll be here," Rodney said."

"No, you'll come back inside with me," John said. "I'm not gonna let you out of my sight again, I promise."

***

John took them outside to the pier and sat down, pressed up against Rodney's side. They'd been quiet for a very long time. He stared out at the moonlight water of their home. Home. How long had it been since John had called anywhere 'home'?

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Rodney," he said. "I'm not gonna lose you."

"I love it here," Rodney murmured, leaning against John's side.

"Me too. Scary monsters and all." John put one arm around Rodney's back; the other hand reached across his own body for one of Rodney's and he held on tight. This was where they both belonged. John was wrong--Atlantis was the place where he lived, but Rodney was his home.

"John... before I can't say it, before there isn't time--"

"No," said John.

"John, we don't have a lot of time, and we don't know how much longer I'm going to be me, so we should really--"

"No, Rodney. I'm not saying goodbye." John held him tighter and pressed his face against Rodney's neck.

"You are being very impractical--you know that, right?" Rodney said, sighing loudly and holding on just as tightly.

"You're not going anywhere, Rodney. I won't allow it."

Rodney sighed again, but it made him smile. "How about I love you? Am I allowed to say that?"

John's fingers moved their way slowly up and down Rodney's spine. "Yes, you are absolutely allowed to say that. Because I love you, too." His voice was rough. He ached, deep inside. In a week or two, less, Rodney wouldn't remember this.

He pulled back, just enough that he could see John's face. Rodney's hand came up, and he reached out, fingers sliding over his cheek, touching his lips. "Good. I love you, John Sheppard," he said, very quietly. "So, so much. Remember that."

John would. For both of them.

***

"Rodney," John said gently, "Rodney. Do you want to wear this green shirt today?"

Rodney looked away from John, murmuring something indistinct, over and over.

Okay. John took a breath, closed the dresser drawer, and approached Rodney. He crouched down in front of him. "Hey, Rodney. We gotta get you out of your pajamas. It's time for breakfast."

Fifteen days since they started documenting Rodney's deterioration. Only fifteen. It felt like centuries.

"Breakfast," Rodney repeated, looking down at John and smiling. "Hi, John."

"Hi, Rodney." John smiled back up at him and stroked his cheek. "That's right. We're going to go have breakfast. But we've gotta get you dressed first. Do you remember what we have planned for after breakfast?"

He frowned, clearly trying to remember. "I..." He looked from side to side, searched for the answer, bit at his lip. "Doctor?" he whispered.

John nodded. "That's right. We're gonna see Dr Keller." He got to his feet and leaned down to press a tender kiss to Rodney's forehead. "But dressed first, okay?"

They had a bit of a fight over Rodney's pants for today. He'd missed arguing with Rodney. He hadn't realised how much he missed that until Rodney absolutely refused to wear anything but a pair of striped pajama pants. John helped him into his housecoat. Mission one: accomplished.

Mission two: mess hall.

"Hey, buddy," Ronon said, standing up when they entered. "I saved you a seat. Why don't you sit with me while John gets your breakfast?"

Rodney stared up at him, up, up, tilting his head back to see him. "Ronon... Dex. Ronon Dex, Ronon Dex, Ronon Dex," he kept repeating, getting softer with each repetition.

John saw the flash of pain in Ronon's eyes, but didn't comment. He took a step back as Ronon urged Rodney down into a chair. He didn't know exactly when it happened, but Ronon liked Rodney. He accepted Rodney now. Maybe it was after Rodney had agreed to be there for the metamorphosis. Or maybe something else had happened between them, unspoken or not, outside of John's knowledge.

Watching Ronon with Rodney now--John had never imagined Ronon capable of being so gentle, and he knew that had been unfair of him. Ronon was good with Rodney.

Mission two: accomplished. Mission three: leave Rodney alone with Ronon long enough to get breakfast for two without Rodney having a meltdown at John's absence. As long as John stayed within Rodney's eyeline, or where Ronon could quickly locate him and point him out as soon as Rodney missed him--quickly meaning within about two seconds--he stayed relatively calm.

When John returned to the table, Ronon had completely captured Rodney's attention. He'd turned to him, engaged him, completely attentive, smiling and nodding.

John set down a tray loaded with two plates. He sat on Rodney's other side. "Having fun with Ronon?" he asked.

Mission three: accomplished. Mission four: actually get Rodney to eat. As of two days ago, his appetite was iffy, and John worried they'd get to a point where Rodney couldn't focus long enough to have a meal--or, worse, that he'd start refusing food altogether.

"Ronon Dex," Rodney said, looking proud. He didn't pay much attention to the plate of food John'd put in front of him, turning his head and looking off to the side, fingers constantly fidgeting.

John did manage to get some food into Rodney's belly with rather a lot of coaxing. His own meal was left virtually untouched--a single bite of toast, a little bit of fruit. No protein, which was stupid, but John's food was abandoned when it became clear Rodney would eat no more, and they were running very close to their scheduled time for Rodney's check up.

Mission four: somewhat successful. Mission five: infirmary.

When Rodney was still in a position to make decisions, they'd asked if he wanted to keep doing the recordings, even once he forgot that it had been his idea. He'd said yes--vehemently yes. And so every day, he was brought in to the infirmary. Every day, he still tried to answer the questions... to find the answers to things that had once been as automatic to him as breathing. To watch him struggle to even name the city they lived in made John's hear break just that little bit more. John excused himself to Jennifer, slipped out into the corridor, and leaned his head back against a wall.

He smelled Teyla and Torren, but didn't open his eyes. "Morning," he mumbled.

"Good morning," Teyla said, shifting Torren to her other hip. "Ronon said that you and Rodney joined him for breakfast. I'm sorry we couldn't get there in time."

"It's okay," he said. He finally looked at her. "Lorne told me that Torren's been fighting the very idea of sleep at reasonable times and in reasonable ways."

"The word 'reasonable' is definitely not one that is currently in Torren's vocabulary, along with 'sleep'," Teyla agreed. "I thought I would bring Torren to see him, if that was all right with you." Rodney hadn't recognised or remembered Torren in days, but something about seeing the baby still made him smile. Or it had yesterday.

John blinked rapidly a few times, then forced a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, that's all right with me."

"We won't stay long," she promised, touching his arm. "I know how he tires easily."

He nodded. As he pushed himself away from the wall he said, "Teyla, I don't think I can take care of him on my own any more." He couldn't. And they all knew it--they'd known it for a couple of days now. But it was the first time that John had said it out loud.

Teyla was opening her mouth to say something when they heard Rodney calling John's name, followed almost immediately by the (now familiar) sound of Rodney's panicked voice, as he realised John wasn't there anymore.

And John raced to be back at Rodney's side. He found Rodney on his feet and reached for him, hands on his upper arms. "Right here, Rodney. I didn't go anywhere. I'm right here, see?" He lifted one hand to touch Rodney's face. "I'm right here."

Rodney stared right at John, the panic still in his eyes. "John! Where are you, John?" he yelled.

A lump swelled in John's throat. "I'm right here," he said, hoarsely. "Rodney, I'm right here. It's me. It's John. Your John."

Rodney stared right at John, his expression completely blank. And then he smiled, reaching out clumsily and touching John's face. "John," he repeated. "John... Sheppard. John."

Rodney McKay was gone, and John hadn't been there when it happened.

John stood very still for a moment, staring into Rodney's eyes. He wasn't there anymore. The man standing right in front of him was not his mate.

***

John sat back and listened. _The Shrine of Talus exists. No, it doesn't. Yes, it does. There's no such thing as magic shrines. Did I say it was magic? No, but you did say that people afflicted with McKay's condition suddenly revert to their former selves..._

(Jennifer and Ronon had been fighting. They were angry with one another.)

John sat back and listened. Smelled the tension in the air. The grief.

Lorne hovered in the doorway. Either keeping others out of Woolsey's office, or shadowing John. If pressed, John would admit that he understood both options. "Cranky" was a vast understatement for his mood lately.

As Ronon and Teyla turned to leave, having announced they would take Rodney themselves, John finally spoke up. "We know for a fact that there are two Hive ships and ten thousand Wraith on the ground. If we're even gonna _consider_ this, all right, we have to make a plan."

"Fine," Ronon snapped. "Make a plan."

The air was full of anger. Frustration. Grief. Loss. John could smell it; he could feel it. It was hard to tell at this point how much of it was his own and how much his pack; his family.

"Wait--stop," Jennifer said. She was exhausted. It showed. "You have to stop. This is crazy. I'm sorry, but it is. If you're right-- _if_ you're right--then the best possible result from what you've described is one day, and then that's it--permanently. We haven't exhausted all possible medical hope. If we'd known quickly enough, when the parasite was still smaller, when he first started exhibiting symptoms, we could have done something about it--all I have to do is find _some_ way to shrink it, and we could actually save his _life_ , rather than give him a good death. I can't let you do this."

Something inside of John snapped. Some fragile thread holding on to his sanity.

"We could have done something about it?" he echoed. His voice was quiet and his eyes locked on Jennifer. "If we'd known?"

She started. She hadn't expected it to be John who came back at her. "I... maybe," she said. "I don't know for sure, but it's the way it's expanded tst have made it inoperable, and initially, it was too small to show up on the scanners. Now we can see it fine." Understatement. "It might have been possible."

"Then you should have known," John said through gritted teeth. "You should have figured it out."

"Colonel," Lorne said, in quiet warning behind him.

He ignored his second. "You should have _known_ , Keller. Don't you dare tell me that you can't let me do this."

Jennifer took a step back, even though John hadn't moved any closer. "I... John, I'm so sorry," she said, regret and guilt all over her face. "I wish I'd known more--I wish I'd done things differently."

Guilt. So much guilt in the air.

"Yeah, you should have done things differently," he said, voice getting louder.

"Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey said in warning.

John ignored him, too. Ignored everyone but Jennifer. "You could have saved him. He's just going to keep getting worse and then he's going to be gone. How long does he have? Days? How long until he stops recognising any of us--until he's terrified because he doesn't know where he is, what he's supposed to be doing--how long until he can't function at all?"

A flare of pain crossed her face, the weight of Rodney's condition settling in squarely on top of her shoulders. "I haven't given up. There's still time, John," she said. "There could be something I haven't tried yet. Some way to save him."

"No, there isn't, because you waited too long! Why the hell did you wait? You should have recognised that something was wrong!" Rodney had been wonderful. So wonderful. Perhaps not John's Rodney--not the Rodney he really knew--but things had never been so perfect.

"John, please." Teyla touched his arm. "There was no way that she could have known. We all thought Rodney was fine."

John jerked his arm away and took a step toward Keller.

"Sheppard," Ronon said, standing very still now.

"You should have _known_!" John shouted. "You're a goddamned doctor--he's your patient--you didn't help him! You haven't done enough to help him and now you won't let me say goodbye to my _mate_!" Another step. "You have no right--none at all. He's mine and _you_ fucked this up!"

He couldn't take a third step toward Jennifer. Lorne and Ronon were on him in an instant, each taking hold of one of his arms. They slammed him into the wall hard enough that it shook.

Jennifer didn't move, not even when John started advancing on her. "I'm sorry," she said, eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry." She turned to look at Teyla, shook her head 'no', just once, then turned and walked out of the room as fast as she could.

***

"Hi, Doc." John hovered nervously in the doorway to Jennifer's office.

If John looked nervous, Jennifer looked... well. Scared. Any ground they'd gained as far as her not being afraid of John had pretty much been lost. "John... hi," she said softly.

"I would like to apologise," he said. "For the way I treated you."

She bit her lip, and she didn't entirely stop looking scared, but she nodded. "No one is at their best when..." She trailed off. "I accept your apology," she said. She couldn't start crying again. That wouldn't help anything. It was hard not to though. She and Ronon were barely speaking, except to fight, and she hadn't slept properly since... well. Since.

John glanced over his shoulder as if looking for someone. Major Lorne was undoubtedly more or less in his back pocket right now. He looked at Jennifer. "The last thing I wanted was to frighten you," he added. "You were a scapegoat for my own anger. I should have known that he wasn't my Rodney and something was wrong, but he was just... he was perfect."

"It was sweet," Jennifer said, and damn it, she had to quickly wipe away a tear. She didn't want to do this in front of John. It wasn't fair. "Romantic. I thought he was... I don't know. Taking time to smell the roses with the person he loved."

"So did I," said John, looking determinedly at a spot just above her left shoulder.

"It's not your fault either, John," Jennifer said, her exhaustion showing on her face. "These are the times... these are the moments that doctors hate the most. The ones where there isn't something to blame or a way to fight."

John closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Please," he said, "can we talk to Rodney about taking him to this cave?"

She knew it was a bad idea. She knew that they shouldn't do it. But the defeat, the look on John's face--he fully expected her to refuse. "We can talk to Rodney," she said. "If he understands... if it's something he wants, we can consider it. Fair enough?"

He looked at her again. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'd like to do it now. He still recognises me when I walk into the room, even if he doesn't fully understand why."

She nodded and stood up. "That's probably a good idea," she said, hesitating, then touching John's arm, just for a moment, before leading the way to Rodney.

***

Right now, more than anything--John wished Elizabeth was there.

She'd know the right thing to say. The right thing to do. She'd help.

John missed her.


	9. Chapter 9

"Sir?"

John stopped. He turned and looked at Lorne; he'd known, of course, that Lorne was nearby, but had hoped that he'd just sort of go away if John ignored him hard enough.

No such luck. "Sir," Lorne repeated, and approached somewhat cautiously. "Any luck?"

"No." John's voice was rough, like he hadn't slept in days. Which he hadn't. Everything in their quarters smelled too much like Rodney. After the first night he'd woken and reached for Rodney, but he wasn't there-- "No," he said, "we won't be going to this shrine."

Lorne looked down. "I'm sorry, sir." Then he looked up. "Effective immediately, I'm relieving you for the day. Sir."

"Excuse me?"

Lorne squared his shoulders and looked John right in the eye. "Take the rest of the day off. I'll take are of everything for you." He took a step closer. "Grieve, John. Give yourself the day and grieve."

John blinked and swallowed hard. Son of a bitch. What was he going to do with himself until tomorrow morning?

" _John_. Go," Lorne said, firmly. "You need to do that for yourself."

John's jaw worked. "Fine," he said. "Call if you need me." It felt good to say it, but he knew well enough that Lorne wouldn't. He didn't wait for a response. He turned and headed to his quarters. Jeannie would be here in the morning. He'd promised her--he'd promised her that Rodney wouldn't get hurt.

( _No, John. You promised her that you wouldn't hurt him. You didn't do this._

 _He trusted me. He followed me._

 _You were ordered to go. This isn't your fault._

 _I'm supposed to take care of him. It's my duty to take care of him._

 _You stubborn bastard. One day you'll realise._

 _I love him too much._

 _There's no such thing._ )

John stood at the foot of their bed. He didn't remember getting there. He felt numb all over. Then reached out and yanked; the covers came off. The sheets came off. He threw everything, including the pillows, into a heap in the corner.

That was probably as good a time as any for his door to chime. "Come in," he called out.

When the door opened, Mr Woolsey was standing there, looking awkward. Hardly unusual for him. "Colonel Sheppard," he said, looking inside and seeing the disarray. "Is... this a bad time?"

John turned and blinked at him. "No," he said, a bit hollowly, "no, I was just... Come in."

Woolsey still looked awkward, but it didn't stop him from coming inside and closing the door behind him. He stood there for a long few moments before he spoke again. "How is he?"

"Dying," John replied. "He's not Rodney any more and he's dying." He turned his head and looked at a photograph of the two of them that stood on the desk. Besides the fact that all their possessions were in the place, it was the only thing in the room that was a testament to their relationship.

It was two years old. Teyla had taken it. They had been on some mission or other--the details were fuzzy at this point--and as a village council needed to deliberate in private, they'd been ejected into the hallway. Rodney was taking a cat-nap against a wall; John was taking a wolf-nap against Rodney. His head with all its wild black fur rested on Rodney's leg.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Colonel," Woolsey said, after another too-long pause. "I just wanted... I wanted to offer, if there was anything..." He stalled out again and sighed. "If there was anything that I could do to help, I would. I wanted you to know that."

"Mr Woolsey, are you showing concern for the big bad wolf?" John turned back to look at Woolsey.

Woolsey met John's eyes without flinching or backing up. "We haven't always seen eye to eye," he said. "All right, to be fair, we've rarely seen eye to eye," he corrected. "We view the world from very different perspectives, you and I. Regardless of that, I have always respected you, and it isn't because you could tear me apart as soon as look at me if you felt like it. It's because of the man, the soldier, and the leader that you are. And I am truly and sincerely sorry that this has happened to Dr McKay... and to you."

John looked at him for a long moment. "We almost lost Rodney about two years ago. The incident with the Ancient device to help give them a kick in the pants for ascension. I assume you read the reports about that one." Without waiting for Woolsey's affirmation, he continued, "I'd left instructions for Major Lorne about how to handle me. It's not easy when a wolf loses a mate."

That was the first time since Woolsey'd come to Atlantis that John ever used the word 'mate' to refer to Rodney. The simple fact that Woolsey was here, right now, was acknowledgement that he understood exactly what was going on between John and Rodney. Not that John gave even the slightest bit of a damn whether or not Woolsey approved.

He took a breath. "And I'm sure you know what we went through with Lorne when Teyla was kidnapped by Michael. What I never told anyone was that he asked me to kill him if Teyla and their son died. Wolves literally go mad with grief, and to lose both a wife and a child--he'd never come back from that. He would have been a danger to himself and everyone in Atlantis."

Woolsey frowned, looking concerned, and not just for the danger to Atlantis. "We can make sure you and everyone else are safe," he said. "I know that I am the last person to know what is necessary in the case of a grieving werewolf, but Major Lorne and Ronon--"

"You don't understand," John interrupted. "I didn't realise it then, but I do now. I'd survive losing him. Of course I'd mourn--I'm not a monster. But my grief is nothing like Lorne's was. I feel numb, Mr Woolsey. Numb and detached and--" He paused and took a breath. "I'm the Alpha of this pack. I have the strength in me to survive losing Rodney and that--" He broke off again and his hands clenched into fists at his side. "There are moments where I could just rip this place apart with my bare hands, I'm so angry, but--" All these stupid, broken sentences. "I'm going to be fine and you have no idea how much that terrifies me."

Woolsey took a step closer, hand twitching by his side, as though he was about to reach up and touch John's shoulder, and then thought better of it. "John." Maybe he'd meant to say something else and didn't. Maybe he couldn't.

John was surprised to hear Woolsey call him anything but "Colonel". He blinked, looked down at him and thought, for a moment, that it looked like Woolsey was actually getting choked up at the moment. Dammit. John turned away, blinking rapidly. "Thank you for your concern, Mr Woolsey."

Woolsey knew a dismissal when he heard one. Still, just because he recognised it didn't mean that he had to obey. Richard Woolsey was not part of John Sheppard's pack, and he certainly was not a wolf. "I'm sure that I'm demonstrating my ignorance, and that if this was a legitimate idea, someone else would have mentioned it. Werewolves don't get sick. They heal. They aren't susceptible to parasites and infections. Couldn't... isn't it _possible_ that you could..." Woolsey couldn't come up with the right phrasing.

John turned around and stared at Woolsey again. It took him a moment to reply. His hands shook and he shoved them in his pockets. "First, Rodney can't consent now, never mind ask. I've offered. I've told him that I would attempt it because he was able to accept the ATA gene therapy--it's a good chance he could actually survive the metamorphosis. But--he's not healthy right now. The chances of someone dying from any sort of illness or already heavily injured surviving are very, very small.

"When I was infected with the retrovirus, being a wolf didn't stop me from transforming into a bug. Being wolves didn't stop Colonel Mitchell or General O'Neill from falling sick from the Ori plague three years ago. I won't be personally responsible for killing Rodney. I owe him that much. Besides, if Keller won't allow us to take Rodney to this cave--" That was probably why Woolsey had come in the first place, John realised suddenly; Teyla and Ronon must have told him. "If she won't allow that, there's no way she'd allow me to _attack_ him."

Woolsey nodded just once. "I understand. Please excuse my ignorance for asking in the first place--I hope that I haven't caused you more pain. It was not my intention to do so."

He'd never really be able to explain why, but for some reason those words hit John like a blow. He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He was not going to show weakness in front of an ordinary human being. "I--thank you," he said hoarsely, eyes still closed.

"I'll leave you alone," Woolsey said quietly. "If there's anything... _anything_ at all that I can do, I hope that you'll tell me." Another moment of hesitation and he took that last step forward, squeezed John's shoulder firmly, just for a moment, then turned and headed out of the room without another word.

As soon as the door closed, John dropped down to his knees on the floor, hands braced to keep from falling on his face.

He stayed like that for a long time, shaking in fear, rage, frustration. Eventually he changed, and the great black wolf found the sheets and blankets and pillows in the corner and curled up in them. He needed to try to sleep. Jeannie would be here in the morning, and he had to be strong for her, too.

***

Everything was so quiet. Of all the descriptions Jeannie Miller could have applied to Atlantis and its residents, quiet would never have been one of them.

Rodney wasn't there to greet her. Neither was John.

She was immediately escorted to John and Rodney's room. After the third time that they'd tried the door chime, Radek had contacted Woolsey to ask for authorisation to open the door.

Woolsey had granted it without so much as a moment of hesitation.

It was so, so quiet.

***

No one had tried to call John at all since Lorne relieved him. That's why the black wolf was snoring away on top of a pile of linens in the corner when Jeannie stepped into the room.

It took him a moment to realise anyone was there. He hadn't even heard the door chime, but he smelled a very familiar smell and after about ninety seconds, his eyes blinked open and he lifted his head.

Jeannie stood there for another moment or two, then came further into the room and settled down on the floor. Unlike Woolsey, even though John was in wolf form, Jeannie didn't hesitate to reach out to him, stroking the black fur standing up wildly across his shoulders.

He let out a sigh and put his muzzle down on his paws. He let her rub her hand over his fur for a while, then finally got to his feet--but only to shift closer. He put his head on her lap as he flopped down onto his side. He wasn't ready to talk, but he needed the comfort.

It couldn't wait long. But it could wait a little longer.

Another few moments and John sat back on his haunches; another heartbeat and he was a man again. He pulled a sheet over his lap. "Hi Jeannie," he said, hoarsely.

"Hey," Jeannie said softly. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he said, not meeting her gaze, "it's bad."

She swallowed hard, then stood up. "I'll wait outside for you to dress. Please. Let me see him."

John kept his head bowed. "I'm sorry, Jeannie," he said, brokenly. "I'm so sorry."

Again, she swallowed. "Please," she whispered. She couldn't break down now. Not yet.

Not now. Not now. Not now. A ragged, choked-back cry escaped John's throat. Not. Now.

Jeannie didn't even hesitate. A couple of steps, and she was across the room, pulling John into a hug. He was family. And they needed each other.

He couldn't speak. He wrapped his arms around her and let go, finally--he just let go. Let it out. He'd pull himself together; for everyone's sake. But he needed to let go.

***

"He looks so small," Jeannie murmured. Rodney wasn't a soldier, no. But the one thing her big brother had never, ever seemed to her, was small. And that's how he looked. Small and weak. And frightened.

John slipped his arm around Jeannie's shoulders. "I know," he said. He watched as Jennifer entered the isolation room to talk Rodney through the visit with his sister. "I'm so sorry, Jeannie."

She leaned against John. "I'm sorry too," she said, just for him.

"Dr Keller said she only needed a few moments," John murmured. "You can go down anytime."

She nodded, started to go, then stopped, reaching out for him. "Please come with me."

He looked surprised. "Really?"

"I..." She trailed off, then cleared her throat and tried again. "John, I need you there. So does he."

He smiled gently. "All right," he said. "I'll go with you." He took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

***

John was livid. He'd never in their few short years together been so blindingly angry with Ronon.

"You _told_ her!" he shouted. "What possessed you to tell her? It was a done thing, Ronon. We'd made the decision. And you went over my head and over Keller's head. What were you thinking?"

"Jeannie deserves to say goodbye to her brother!" Ronon yelled back. "It was the right thing to do."

"You had no right," John said. "None whatsoever. It never should have happened."

"I did the right thing," Ronon said, "and if I'm going to be punished for it? Fine. I'll rest easy knowing that I'm helping Jeannie and McKay."

John took a step back. He was still angry, but--

"Please," Jeannie said softly, daring to touch John's arm. "Please, John. I'm sorry. I know this isn't fair, but at least you got to talk to him when he was still Rodney. I just... I just want to tell my brother I love him and say goodbye."

"Jeannie, there are _Wraith_ on the planet, and Rodney can't consent to going," John said.

"I'll do it for him," she said, turning and looking John dead in the face. "I'm his legal next of kin."

John suddenly deflated, though his anger certainly didn't. He felt a fresh surge of it. Ronon had forced this. Living in the Pegasus Galaxy, and bound by werewolf custom--which was not legally binding--John didn't have a leg to stand on. He couldn't overrule Jeannie. He stared down at her, then took a step away from. "Fine."

"No--it's not fine," Jennifer spoke up for the first time in this conversation, staring at John. "We can't do this. It was a bad idea when we first talked about it, and it's a worse idea now." She couldn't even look at Ronon.

"He's dying," Jeannie said bluntly, "and the man in that room stopped being my brother before I got here. If there's a way that we can get there, and there's a chance it'll work, we're going."

"You don't have to come, Jennifer," John said. "It'll be dangerous. You can stay here. Maybe even get some rest." He looked back at her, then at Lorne, who remained still and silent.

Something told John that Lorne actually agreed with Ronon and Jeannie.

He sighed. "We're going. I'm going to go talk to Woolsey." He started to stalk from the room, then paused and looked up at Ronon. He looked back at Jennifer one more time before he met Ronon's gaze and said, very quietly, "I hope that this was worth it to you."

***

There was never any doubt in John's mind that the _place_ was real; it was what it was purported to do that he had trouble believing. On the other hand, he was a werewolf who regularly fought space vampires. He'd been close friends with witches for five years now. So there was a part of him, the part that knew full well that magic existed, that believed. Of course, this had once been an original planet of the Ancients. It probably wasn't even magic, but science.

He reached out for Rodney's hand to help him into the cave as Teyla steadied him. "I've got him," he said, quietly, as he handed his weapon to Lorne. He didn't smell danger. The Wraith had no idea they were there. He slipped his arm around Rodney's shoulders and tried not to think about the way Rodney was sobbing. Quiet. Plantive. He was confused and frightened and it broke John's heart.

"Rodney," he said, "look at the waterfall. It's cool, huh?"

Rodney cowered--actually cowered--and shrunk away from it, seeking protection behind John. "Loud... loud," he said, flinching away from it.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Rodney." John urged him away. Teyla, Jeannie, and Jennifer were near a column in the middle of the cave. Teyla found some markings and ran her fingers over them. Lorne joined her.

Jeannie and Jennifer were looking at an Ancient scanner together. Something about radiation. "Maybe we can ask Rodney in a minute," John said as he guided Rodney closer to Teyla and Lorne. "Let's take a look at this, Rodney. Teyla's found something neat."

"No," Rodney said, balking like a dog on a leash. "No, no, _no_ \--" He gasped loudly and looked up at John, looking him right in the eyes for a few seconds.

Right before he started screaming.

"Rodney!" John held him tight; felt Jeannie right beside them.

The screaming was definitely worse than the crying. It kept going. Again and again, a ragged breath, another scream. Jeannie's cheeks were covered in tears as she tried to soothe Rodney, tried to get him to stop.

And then he did stop. As abruptly as he'd started. Everything stopped.

***

One day indeed.

John made a mental note to lodge a formal complaint about why the hell would the Ancients build a radiation-spewing tablet that would shrink parasites, but then let the person afflicted with this illness die anyway, instead of building a radiation-spewing tablet that would actually destroy the damn parasites.

***

"All right," said John, "I've got an idea." He turned back to Jeannie. "Keep him as far away from this thing as he can stand. We'll be back in twenty minutes." He started to lead Jennifer out of the cave.

"Stop, sit, stay!" Rodney could really bark it out when he needed to.

It actually brought John up short. He turned around, calm as could be. "Yes, Rodney?"

Rodney folded his arms and glared at him. "Speak."

John glared at him. "I am not a puppy."

"Do not even _start_ with me right now!" Rodney was working himself up into a fine tantrum. "I am damp, and in a cave, and that damned waterfall is making me feel like I have to pee, and now you two are whispering in corners and taking off without explaining? Not a chance. So speak, John. Right now."

John looked at Jennifer. She looked at him. And then clearly decided she was going to let him do the explaining--probably because she didn't think this was the best idea he'd ever had. "We're going back to the Puddle Jumper to get some tools and supplies so that Jennifer can get the parasite out," he said.

"Out," Rodney said blankly. "Out of my _head_. You have tools--in the Puddle Jumper--that Jennifer can use--in a _cave_ \--to get a parasite that was killing me just thirty minutes ago out of my _brain_?"

John looked around for support. Nobody seemed to want to get in the middle of their little spat. "Yes, Rodney," he said, raising his voice. "We're gonna do whatever we can to save you!"

"Using what, exactly? No--I want to know--what were you and Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman, about to run off to the Jumper and fetch?"

"Some more medical supplies," John said. "She'll be able to put you under, Rodney. And there are tools."

"Tools." Rodney glared even more at John, waiting for the rest of it.

"Rodney, we have to get that thing out of you or you're going to die," John said, trying to be reasonable. He looked around for support, hoping _someone_ would back him up.

"I can do it," Jennifer said, giving him a look of confidence mixed with terror. "I think that the parasite has shrunk enough that--"

"You think," Rodney said flatly. "You think that you can get it out. You think that you do surgery in a _cave_ , using whatever power tools John keeps hidden in the back of a Jumper. You don't know, though. You can't see properly with the scanner. This is all just... it's not even conjecture, it's just one big guess!" His jaw worked for a moment, and he shook his head. "No. No way. There's one more option." He straightened his shoulders and stared at John. "You turn me."

Up to that point, there was silence from everyone else in the cave.

At that point exactly, everyone started talking all at once--everyone, that is, except John. He stared back at Rodney.

"What? Just because I never asked for it, you think I never thought about it?" Rodney said.

John didn't know what to say.

Lorne said it for him. "McKay--Rodney. You may not survive that, either."

"It's been tried before," Jennifer said, still looking stunned. "With cancer patients, with people dying from all sorts of infections. It's very, very risky, and rarely works."

"I know that," Rodney snapped. "All the things that I've thought I was dying from over the years, you think I haven't thought of that?"

"Let Dr Keller try to remove the parasite," Lorne said. Sometimes it sucked being the voice of reason, but it was kind of in a beta's job description. "When you're better, then you and Colonel Sheppard can talk about the possibility of making the change. You might feel fine right now, but we know you're not."

"I am not letting Dr Keller try to remove the parasite," Rodney said, his voice even.

"Meredith, _please_ , just--"

"No," he said, interrupting Jeannie. "No," he repeated, more gently. He took a deep breath. "I don't remember--a lot of the last few weeks are gone. I don't remember everything. But I remember enough. I remember how it felt to start slipping away. How it felt to be reaching for knowledge that should have been instinctive. I remember the looks on each of your faces when it started getting worse."

"None of us wanted to watch you die like that," Ronon said. "That's why we brought you here." He sounded impatient; he didn't like repeating himself.

"Yes, yes, I know, one blessed day, a quick and noble death," Rodney said, waving it off. They were wasting time. "So tell me this--what do you think is going to happen when Dr Keller does backwoods voodoo surgery on me with a hammer and a chisel and a knife pulled out of Ronon's boot? Assuming it works to some degree and I survive, do you have any idea how stupid an idea this is? How many things are _likely_ to go wrong? The parasite might not be able to completely removed. The damage might _not_ be temporary. I might get an infection from having brain surgery done _on the ground_.

"And do you know what the end result of _all_ of that is, assuming I don't die?" Rodney looked around, looking at _everyone_. "That I spend the rest of my life as bad as I was before you brought me here, or worse."

"I imagine Dr Keller warned Colonel Sheppard of the dangers of infection," Lorne said, looking between the two of them.

"It's a risk, but I think it's one worth making," Jennifer said.

"You're not listening. No one is _listening_ to me!" Rodney was starting to get truly angry now.

"We're listening, McKay," Lorne said. "Believe me, we are listening to you." There was a frustrated edge in his voice now, too.

Rodney blew out a slow and deliberate breath. "I saw all of your faces, and it wasn't just about the part where I was dying. It was seeing me, reduced to _that_. And you are asking me to consent to something where it's not just possible, it's _probable_ , that I'll spend the rest of my life like that. _Change_ me," Rodney said, turning to look at John again.

John started to look frustrated again. "Rodney, I can't do that to you! I cannot be responsible for killing you!"

"I am not going back to who I've been for the past few weeks, John," Rodney said. "Not again, and not permanently. I'm not doing that to myself, or any of you."

"I _can't_ ," John said. "I can't do that to you--I can't be the one to kill you!"

Lorne looked up at him. "And if Ronon or I try it, the chances of McKay's survival are considerably lower."

"No one's going to do that to him!" John shouted.

"You'd stay. Wouldn't you?" Rodney said, looking right at John again. "If Keller saved my life, but the damage was permanent, and I went back to the childlike idiot I've been since this happened. You'd stay, even if I was no longer myself. Even if this Rodney McKay was gone, and never coming back."

"Of course I would, Rodney." Wolves mate for life. There was no question.

"Yeah," Rodney said, and his voice was flat. "I know you would. You'd give it all up. All of this. You'd take me back to Earth, and we'd live off whatever kind of pension the military supplies for 'sorry that your brain got hollowed out by an alien parasite', and you'd never complain. You'd forget the person I used to be, because you'd be too busy caring for the person I'd become. And people would die, because of that decision. Here, in Pegasus, back on Earth, people would die because you turned and walked away from your responsibility."

He took a step closer to John. "And if you--if John Sheppard, Alpha wolf, of all people--can't understand why I'd rather take my chances, rather than face the probability of the two of us living that _hell_ on earth... if you can't understand why I'd rather be _dead_ than put either of us through that, then John... you really need to turn around and walk out of this cave, because you're not the man I've spend the best years of my life loving."

Did Rodney ever know how to push all of John's buttons. At the same time. It was like mashing on John's keyboard.

He swallowed hard. Took the few steps necessary to close the distance between them, took his face in his hands, and kissed him. Hard. In front Jeannie and Lorne and everyone. "You need to be sure," he whispered, against Rodney's mouth. Rodney's mouth; that crooked mouth that made him weak in the knees when Rodney used it against him. "You need to be sure and not afraid and you need to want this, Rodney."

"I'm sure," Rodney whispered back. "I'm not letting you look after a vegetable, and I'm not leaving you alone. I'm sure--I want this." He took a deep breath, and let it out. "And of all the things I'm afraid of that could happen today, doing this isn't one of them."

John kissed Rodney again, then turned and looked at Jeannie. "I'm gonna do it," he said, softly.

Jeannie looked at him, then back at Rodney, her eyes bright with tears. "I know," she whispered. "Mer... don't you die. Do you understand me? Don't you _dare_ ," she said, voice choked.

"I won't," Rodney said, going over to her and placing both hands on her upper arms, holding on tightly. "You've always told me I was the most stubborn person alive. Well... now I get to prove it."

John gave them their moment, watched them embrace each other and hold on tight. He and Lorne looked at each other for a long, long moment, then Lorne finally lowered his gaze. John repeated it with Ronon--and saw the flash of teeth, the quick grin, before Ronon looked away, too.

John started to unbutton his shirt. "Ronon and Lorne have to be here, Rodney, but the ladies need your permission."

Rodney nodded. He was pale, but he didn't look scared. "You have my permission," he said, looking from Jeannie to Jennifer, after a quick look at Teyla. He knew that Teyla'd stay--that wasn't in question. "You also have my permission, and my blessing, to stay outside if you don't want to watch this," he added, focusing on Jeannie. "I was at Ronon's," he added. "I made it, but it wasn't easy. You can't distract him, and you can't interrupt once it starts. You have to know that."

Jeannie nodded. She was just as pale as Rodney, but she did look frightened. "I'm going to stay," she said. "I want to be here for you."

"Okay... but don't throw up," Rodney said, managing to tease, just a little. "They frown on that."

She managed a choked-off little laugh and hugged him again. "I promise. I love you, Mer."

***

The black wolf paced. He whined. He paced some more. He leaned heavily against Jeannie's legs and looked up at her. He knew there was still blood on his face, but he thought it might make it worse if he licked it away, so he looked down. Over at Rodney.

Rodney was silent. Not just quiet--silent. Even the sounds of pain he'd been making had stopped, and his breathing was so shallow it was hard to tell he was breathing at all.

John began to pace again. He moved closer to Rodney, tentative, hesitant. He pressed his nose against Rodney's cheek, then stepped away again and circled around the cave before he returned to Jeannie again. He sat right at Jeannie's feet. He threw his head back and howled; Lorne and Ronon both closed their eyes. The howl was grief and loss and pain.

And then Jeannie gasped, and started. Even through her tears, she hadn't looked away from Rodney, not once. And Rodney'd just moved.

Another howl.

John hadn't heard Jeannie, but Lorne had. He started forward, dropped to his knees at Rodney's side, and felt a rush of relief.

Rodney was alive.

He moved again, wincing in pain, lips parting with a groan that quickly became a whine.

"Colonel," Lorne said, low and urgent. " _Colonel._ He's alive."

John's eyes met Lorne's. He looked up at Jeannie again and licked her hand, then went to Rodney's side.

Rodney was alive.

The whine of pain became a howl, distorted by Rodney's still-human throat. His wounds were closing, blood still staining the stone floor.

John whined softly. He kept out of the way of snapping jaws and extended claws as Rodney changed, but he never stopped watching. Not once. He stayed as close as he dared, hoping that Rodney would recognise his scent and be able to find some comfort in it.

It felt like it was taking forever.

Every time Rodney howled, every time he cried out in pain, it was a little less human... and a lot more wolf. The last time, before his entire body relaxed and he sagged back against the stone, panting for breath, there was nothing human left at all.

John shifted in closer to Rodney, then settled on his belly next to him. He started licking over Rodney's face, over and over again. Rodney made a whimpering, grumbling sort of noise... almost like he was protesting John's attempts to wake him up.

John grumbled right back at Rodney and he nipped lightly at his ear. This was absolutely no time for sleeping.

Rodney snapped his teeth at John in protest, then lifted his head, looking confused. He tilted his head to the side and looked at John, then down at his own paws.

He had paws.

Jeannie wiped away the tears that were still on her cheek, and took a few steps closer, before crouching down. "Mer?"

John lifted his head to look at her. And he grinned a wolfy sort of grin. _Family._ He licked Rodney's face again. _Mine._

She laughed, even though she still had tears in her eyes. Especially when Rodney grumbled under his breath and bumped at John, trying to lie down and close his eyes again.

***

They might not have packed quite enough food for all of them, considering Rodney's appetite was now wolf-sized. Ronon found himself eyeing Jennifer's sandwich, and he knew that wasn't at all fair. "Okay," he said, trying to distract himself, "so here's my question. All the rest of us, as wolves, kind of look... like we do as humans. Hair colour and everything. So how come McKay is pure white?"

"He was blond as a kid," Jeannie said, ignoring the indignant noise of protest Rodney made and the way he started pushing at her with his nose, trying to get her to stop talking. "White blond when he was little, but still very blond even in his teens and twenties. It didn't darken until later."

"Huh," John said. "I had no idea, but he keeps insisting he just doesn't have any pictures to show me." It was getting cold; they had moved as far away as they could get from the source of radiation without putting themselves in danger of getting discovered by the Wraith, but he knew they couldn't stay much longer. He just wasn't quite ready to move on just yet. "Still--we must make quite the pair, huh, Rodney?"

Rodney grumbled at Jeannie, then plunked his chin on top of John's boot.

"You do realize that your room is going to be _covered_ with white fur," Jennifer pointed out. "I had a white cat once, and I didn't have a single piece of clothing without it."

John rubbed at his face. "See, there's a reason I tend to stick to basic black a lot," he said. "And you would not believe the way he complains about my fur getting all over his clothes..." He leaned forward and tapped at Rodney's nose. "You make my life difficult, you know."

He growled at John, play-snapped at his fingers, then purposely rubbed his head against John's pantleg.

"You're a brat," John announced. He offered Rodney the very last bit of turkey from his sandwich.

Rodney took the turkey and licked John's fingers. Then he closed his eyes, like he was about to try for another nap.

John jerked his leg. "Nuh uh," he said. "Not until we're back in the Jumper. We've gotta head home soon."

Rodney whined and rolled onto his side, pinning John's legs underneath him.

John scratching at Rodney's neck. "C'mon. Up. Time to go home. Everybody out of the pool."

Rodney grumbled again.

"Oh, stop it," Jeannie said. "Unless you want Ronon to carry you."

Rodney was up and on his feet like _that_.

John laughed. "Magic words, Jeannie." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, without a second thought, then got to his own feet and stretched. "It's a long climb back down to the jumper, Rodney. You sure you don't want Ronon to carry you?" he teased.

***

Once again, Woolsey looked all choked up--this time, when John explained that the snow-white wolf at his side was Rodney. He was very pleased to have Rodney back with them.

And so was John.

As soon as they reached their quarters again, John shed his clothes. He changed back into a wolf and stepped up to Rodney, licking his face over and again. _Home. Family. Mine._

 _Mine always._

He barked, once, then grabbed a corner of the blanket to drag it down onto the floor, using his paws to make it a nice lumpy, soft nest. He curled up, and looked expectantly up at Rodney.

The licking actually wasn't all that bad, at least while Rodney's wolf was at the fore, and his human wasn't getting to be in charge. Once the blankets were down on the floor, Rodney came over and flopped down next to John, wriggling in close.

John licked him again for good measure, then relaxed. He rested his muzzle on Rodney's paw, and closed his eyes.

 _Home. Mine. Forever._

***

John fell over, one arm dangling over the edge of the bed, the other draped over Rodney's chest, and his face pressed into the cool, cool pillow. He panted for breath. " _Damn_."

Rodney groaned, breathing as hard as John was. " _God_."

John lifted his head and looked at the clock. "Well. That was certainly a record for us."

"I think so, yes," Rodney agreed. "Seriously--there were things that you could have used that would have been _way_ better recruitment tools than what you did tell me."

John dropped his head to the pillow again. "Well, yeah, but wasn't that a welcome surprise?"

"One of these days, I really am going to learn all of your secrets, Poodle," Rodney said, shifting so he could look at him.

John closed his eyes. "Okay, Pomeranian."

"Oh, don't you dare," Rodney threatened. "Hey. Speaking of secrets... or at least, speaking of things you don't know yet."

John tugged Rodney closer. "Yeah?"

"My sister has told me that you're required to make an honest wolf out of me, and we're expected to come to Canada and get married so that Madison can be a flower girl."

John was quiet a moment. Eventually he said, "'Kay."

"She's really pretty insistent upon it, and you know that the SGC isn't going to give ..." Rodney blinked. "Did you just say 'kay'?"

"Mmhmm."

"You... did hear what I said, right?"

"Yes, and I said 'okay'."

"You said... okay." Rodney paused on that for a moment. "My sister has ordered us to get married, and you said... okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you want to."

"If I..." Rodney's attack with a pillow came out of nowhere.

"Rodney!" John laughed and grabbed the pillow from him. "I'm serious!"

"All this time--I've been your mate all this time and not one peep have you said about getting married!" Rodney grabbed another pillow and swatted John again. "And now I finally tell you, and you say okay? That's all I get? Okay?" Rodney was laughing too, although he was trying really hard not to. "You're impossible!"

John grabbed that pillow, too. Both got dropped to the floor, and then he pounced on Rodney. Pinned him to the bed.

"Hey, McKay," he said, "you wanna get hitched?"

Rodney narrowed his eyes at John and squirmed. He still couldn't get free, but it was a lot fairer fight than it was before. "Try again--you are not from Arkansas," he scolded.

"How do you know?" John countered, grinning broadly.

"Well, you're not there now, so be a _gentleman_ ," Rodney shot back, giving John a Look.

John kissed the end of Rodney's rose. "Rodney, let's get married before your sister comes back here and beats us up."

"Okay... now, see, that's not romantic at all, but that's a proposal I can live with," Rodney said. And then he grinned. A wicked--no, evil--grin.

"Well, okay, then. Big gay werewolf wedding. In Canada." John settled at Rodney's side again. "My life is kind of weird, you know."

"My life has been entirely weird ever since the day I met you," Rodney said, tucking in close beside him, still grinning widely. "Oh--by the way? Jeannie's going to need your measurements."

"Huh? What? Why?"

"It's a big, gay, werewolf wedding, in Canada, of the Clan McKay," Rodney said. "She'll need to know what size kilt to get you."


	10. Chapter 10

John looked out over the moonlit water. He'd forgotten his shoes, but the cold never really bothered him all that much. Even in Antarctica.

Five years ago.

Weird.

He closed his eyes a moment and took in a deep breath, then let it out again. Rodney smelled different now. Still his Rodney. Just different.

Rodney was tucked in close to John, and the cold wasn't bothering him either. Of course, John had still insisted he wear a coat, which was part of it. But still--the chill in the air, the wind... just wasn't an issue.

"You're quiet, Rodney. Solving all of the galaxy's problems?" John teased. "One step at a time. You're just a puppy."

"I am _not_ a puppy--don't you start with me," Rodney said, narrowing his eyes playfully and shaking a finger at John. "No... not the galaxy, this time. Either of them. I was thinking about me, funnily enough."

John gasped. "I may die of shock."

"You should be nicer to me... I have a fighting chance of being able to beat you up now, you know," Rodney said.

John laughed. "Uh huh. Of course you do."

Rodney kicked at John's foot, then settled back again into 'think' mode.

Another laugh. He turned a little to Rodney, put an arm around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple. Then let him go back to thinking. John took the time to think about wicked things to do to Rodney when they got back to their quarters, whenever Rodney was ready.

Rodney'd closed his eyes and was taking deep breaths when he turned his head to the side, sniffed once, and made a face. "Stop that, it's distracting. Wait... hang on," he said, looking at John. "You're turned on."

John looked at him, then gave a slow, naughty grin. "I'm making plans," he said.

He rolled his eyes and snorted. "Of course you are. Pervert. But how did I..." he brought his hand up to his nose. "Oh. _Oh_. I smelled it. I smelled you. I did, didn't I?"

John nodded. "Yeah. You did."

"Huh," Rodney said. "Well. Now, that's gonna be problematic isn't it?" he said, frowning. "Now whenever Ronon's skulking around Jennifer and getting that look on his face, I'm going to know it's more than a look. I'm going to know what Teyla and Lorne have been doing. Oh _God_ , I'm going to know every time some village hussy in a push up blouse is getting all..." he waved his hands around wildly, "for you. This is just all a lot more complicated than I'd figured on," he said.

"Of course it is. You're a werewolf now."

"I know... I'm just... you know," Rodney said. "Thinking."

"Right. Thinking." John trailed his fingertips up Rodney's back, then into his hair. "Me too." About things he could do to Rodney's body with his tongue.

"In a very 18A kind of way, I'm sure," Rodney said, rolling his eyes, even as he settled in a little closer. "So... I suppose that's good to know. I mean, you're over a century old, and sex hasn't gotten boring for you yet."

"No," John said, not yet. "Certainly not with you."

"Good. That's good," Rodney said, smiling. "Because... wow. I mean, do you ever think about it? You're going to live until something kills you. I'm going to live until something kills me."

"I don't think about it much anymore," John admitted. "You do get used to it after a while. But it's hard at first. Of course it's hard at first."

"Yeah," Rodney said, back to looking out at the ocean. "Which, of course, would be where the 'a lot to think about' comes in."

"Yeah, I guess it would. We never really discussed this. I tried, but you stopped me every time."

"Yeah," Rodney said, wincing a bit. "Sorry about that."

"But here we are now. Do you... do you regret it, Rodney?"

"That's what I've been thinking about," Rodney said. "I'm doing all the thinking now that I should have done, you know. Before I ended up in a dark, mildewey cave, with an organism in my head," he said dryly. "But I don't. I don't regret it, I mean." He reached for John's hand. "When you brought it up before--tried to--I was afraid."

"I know you were," John said. "That's why I didn't push." He squeezed Rodney's hand. "And now here we are. Stuck with each other."

"Yes we are. I'm sure it's not going to surprise you when I say that I've always been a bit of a hypochondriac," Rodney said, dry as dust. "I was afraid of death, for a long time. Then, I realised that there was something worse than death, and that was dying. But right then, in that cave... I realised there was something worse than dying. And it was worth taking the risk. You were worth it... and so was I."

John smiled. He leaned against Rodney's side. "I'm glad we did," he said. "I'm absolutely terrified of our trip home, though, I've got to admit it. I tried marriage once, Rodney. It didn't work out so well."

Rodney gave John a _look_ , and rolled his eyes. "Honestly. You're terrified of Canada. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Besides, we're already mated for life... how much more scary can marriage be?"

"Lots. Trust me."

"You're doing it," Rodney said. "I'm more afraid of my sister than I am of your marriage-phobia. You're going to be stuck with me in Canada too, as well as the Pegasus Galaxy, and the world of werewolves, Lieutenant-Colonel Poodle-face. Deal with it."

***

Jennifer and Ronon broke up. He'd stormed away after some argument or other. John wondered what it was they argued about; sometimes suspected it had something to do with werewolves.

Then Jennifer was kidnapped off-world. John had purposefully sent Ronon off-world as a bodyguard. He grumbled and muttered about it the entire time. But he saved her life. They became inseparable after. John didn't know whether or not Jennifer was Ronon's mate or just his lover, but he did decide to be a little bit smug about playing matchmaker.

Rodney, of course, pointed out that it really wasn't anything he'd done, since it wasn't as though John had orchestrated the kidnapping. John didn't let that get in the way of his mood.

The self-congratulations didn't last long. Suddenly it occurred to him that his people got kidnapped a lot.

He disapproved of that, but wasn't sure who to bite, exactly.

***

The very first crisis during a full moon after Rodney's metamorphosis, he complained loudly, at length, and to anyone who would listen, that the necessity of changing into a wolf that one night of the lunar cycle was a 'serious design flaw' for the wolves.

John laughed for about ten minutes.

In his defence, he'd been lying on his back in bed at the time. Everyone knows how hard it is to stop laughing when one is lying down.

The look on Rodney's face didn't make it any easier for John to stop laughing. Rodney insisted it _was_ a serious design flaw. He couldn't understand why modern science and magic hadn't been able to develop something that would prevent that one night's call of the moon.

He was not in any way mollified by the way John shrugged and said that it was magic in its own right, and that was why there were always, always, ordinary humans involved in the military and security forces.

Rodney decided that the next time Carson Beckett returned to Atlantis, he was going to sit him down and together, science and voodoo would figure out how to fix it.

John wished him luck. Rodney hit him with a pillow.

***

It didn't feel like all that long ago that they got rid of the Replicators.

(Probably because it technically wasn't.)

So it really didn't seem fair that the Wraith were, of course, still out there, and now there was a faction of rogue, aggressive Asgard. John went so far as to call them 'feral'.

He'd been separated from Rodney again. He didn't _like_ being separated from Rodney.

John needed to qualify that thought, he decided, as he pushed Rodney down onto the bed. Being separated from Rodney for a while wasn't all that bad, because when they were reunited, the sex was always really hot. It was when they were separated and there was mortal peril.

No, wait, he thought, as he captured Rodney's mouth in a demanding kiss. The sex was even better after _that_.

John was still bossy. That part hadn't changed with Rodney becoming a wolf. And they still argued, which neither of them would admit they had kind of always enjoyed, and John still got demanding and pushed Rodney into walls when he was stressed out, or impatient, or when Rodney took too long working on things that could have waited until later.

Sometimes, Rodney did that last one on purpose, just because.

Rodney had done that tonight. John had paced. He'd growled at Rodney. He'd stood behind him and made impatient-wolf noises. And when Rodney finally, finally, closed his laptop and spun the chair around to look up at John with that 'yes, do you need something?' expression on his face, John had dragged him up and kissed him until they were both breathless. All but tore them out of their clothes. Manhandled Rodney across the room.

Got them in their current position.

He broke the kiss and looked down at Rodney. "You are _impossible_ ," he declared.

"Mmm... and you _like_ me that way," Rodney said, breathlessly smug. "You think it's hot."

John did. He absolutely did. "It makes me crazy," he said with a growl, ducking his head to suck at Rodney's shoulder.

The marks didn't last nearly as long anymore. That just meant John could do it more often, though. Rodney always complained, of course, especially if one lasted long enough in a place that was visible enough to get him teased by Ronon or Teyla or Lorne. But John was pretty sure Rodney liked it. That he was proud--he was the only one who could make John Sheppard lose control the way he could.

John lifted his head and looked down at Rodney for a long, long moment. "Want you," he said, voice rough. Hoarse. He was desperately hard and rubbed himself against Rodney's thigh.

Which was one guaranteed way to get Rodney to shut up--or at least to stop bitching.

Because Rodney was never, _ever_ quiet.

" _Want_ you, Rodney," John said. "Want you now." He thrust against Rodney's thigh again.

Rodney groaned and pushed back, squirming under John's body. Even now that he was a werewolf, John could still keep him pinned. "So come on--come _on_ ," he gasped.

That was all the invitation John needed. He slicked his cock, lifted Rodney's hips, and thrust inside him in moments. He let out a deeply pleased groan as he let his head fall back. Rodney. His. Always his.

Rodney hands clutched at John's shoulders, fingers digging in hard. John wasn't the only one who sometimes left marks behind. Rodney moaned, wrapped around John, as close as he possibly could get.

John slipped one hand under Rodney's head, the other still holding his hip. He moaned as Rodney started to rock with him. Slow. Almost lazy. They took their time. Despite the heat in the way John had kissed Rodney, he wasn't in any hurry now. They had all night.

Even when John kissed him, Rodney still made noise. He shuddered beneath him, but he let John set the pace this time, without badgering or rushing him.

John needed this. Needed Rodney more than--

It scared him to think about it. Even after everything, even after changing him, it terrified John to think about how much he needed Rodney.

He moaned into Rodney's mouth. They kept moving and the pleasure of it coursed through him. Kept him moving. Kept him going for as long as he could.

He _growled_. Low and deep. "Rodney."

Rodney stared up at him, lips parted. He whined, wordless and desperate.

John pushed a hand between their bodies. "Please, Rodney."

He gasped loudly, shoved up into the press of John's hand once, and that did it. Rodney's back arched up off the bed as he came, gasping out John's name.

John followed him over a moment later. He barely made a sound as he shuddered through his orgasm, then fell still. Collapsed atop Rodney. Tried to find his equilibrium again.

Rodney grunted as John's weight settled in against him. Not that he minded. Being able to let John stay collapsed on him all caveman-style was one of the perks.

Soon enough, though, John moved. Settled at Rodney's side, face against his neck a moment. "Mine?"

"Mmm. Yours," Rodney mumbled. "Bossy."

John scraped his teeth over Rodney's neck. "You like it."

Rodney made a sound of protest and swatted at John half-heartedly.

John laughed. "You do."

"Stop being smug--that's my job."

"Yes, Rodney. Anything you say."

Rodney swatted at him again. "Fucking wolves," he muttered.

***

There was a picture, they think taken by Sam Carter, from John and Rodney's wedding that looked like this:

It was three am, according to the timestamp on the photo. The picture was taken from behind the table with the cake. John had his tuxedo jacket off; Rodney still wore his, but his bowtie had been abandoned somewhere. It was probably in Madison's hair. John had his head tilted back and his hand wrapped around Rodney's elbow as Rodney's arm stretched to his face. There was cake all over Rodney's face, right up over his eye. Carson, Teyla, Lorne, and Ronon could be seen just off to the side, laughing. They could see, though it wasn't obvious obvious from the angle the picture was taken from, that Rodney was smearing cake in turn all over John's face.

***

Rodney was proud of himself. So very proud, so very smug--and John would never say it out loud, but dammit all, it suited Rodney. His Rodney. He got the Alpha wolf of Atlantis to go to Canada and get married. He figured that he deserved bragging rights for it.

Of course, the next time Rodney called John 'Mr Dr Rodney McKay', he was going to get bit.

***

Woolsey greeted John and Rodney when they returned on the _Daedalus_ from their honeymoon after the Big Canadian Gay Werewolf Wedding.

(John was never going to stop calling it that. Probably in vengeance for the kilt. He just didn't have the knees to pull it off.)

That evening, there was another reception on Atlantis; one great big party for all the people who hadn't been able to attend the actual Earth-bound wedding. When everyone else had cleared out, leaving John and Rodney with Teyla, Lorne, Ronon, Jennifer, Carson, and Woolsey, they were told that, Michael struck Atlantis directly. Just two days after Teyla, Lorne, Ronon, and Carson had returned on the _Daedalus_.

John and Rodney had still been on their honeymoon. Why would they take a honeymoon?

Rodney insisted they deserved those times. They deserved to spend time without the weight of the galaxy on their shoulders. John deserved to spend time with his mate, just being a couple of guys enjoying a nice tropical beach. ("Were we supposed to smell him from _another galaxy_?" Rodney had demanded.)

John was Alpha. He was supposed to protect his home. He was supposed to keep everyone safe. ("John, sometimes you can let other people protect your family," Teyla told him, gently as she could.)

Deep down, he knew that his various complexes did no one any good. That his willingness to sacrifice himself, to run all the ridiculous suicide missions, were definitely signs that maybe he had things he needed to work out. ("You have fought so hard to keep Dr McKay alive--don't you think he deserves for you to have the same respect for your own life?" Woolsey had asked.)

Michael's hybrids had found Lorne after they had taken Teyla and Torren hostage. John had forgotten, somehow, that Michael had developed almost as intense an interest in Lorne as he had in Teyla; after all, Lorne was pretty instrumental in Torren being in the galaxy in the first place. The self-destruct claxons going off, Michael not only threatened their _home_ \--but threatened Lorne's life to bring Teyla out of hiding.

But there was no way it was going to be that easy. ("You should know by now that I'm tougher than I look," Lorne had said, with a quirk of a grin.)

If John hadn't realised the wisdom in his choice of second, he certainly did now.

Teyla and Lorne fought Michael together; Lorne as a wolf, of course. It was personal. Michael threatened everything they loved--and he'd never do it again. When he fell, Lorne didn't change immediately back into a human. He sat on his haunches at Teyla's side, tilted his head back, and howled.

Teyla and Lorne were a force to be reckoned with. Within hours, word of Michael's demise and just how it had come about spread through the city like wildfire. Lorne was a little uncomfortable by all the attention, all the admiration, but John figured he deserved a moment to shine in the spotlight.

Sometime in the intervening time they'd been gone, Ronon and Jennifer had apparently broken up and reconciled again. John suspected that their relationship would carry on like that. He hoped they'd work it out, but John didn't believe that Jennifer would ever be willing to make the metamorphosis.

Not like Teyla. She'd make a strong wolf. John was confident--had always been confident--that she would survive the change.

John spent a few moments--maybe more than a few--desperately wishing Elizabeth was there.

***

"--and that's why--Rodney?" John stopped and turned, puzzled, trying to locate Rodney.

Teyla and Ronon stopped, too. The three of them quickly spotted Rodney, as he had only fallen a few yards behind. He was very still, head tilted up and back as he stared into the leaves a tree above his head.

"Rodney?" said John.

"Bird!" Rodney exclaimed. The bird heard him and quickly flew away.

As John watched on in amusement, Rodney gave himself a shake. He stomped over to them, then pointed an accusatory finger at Ronon. "He never went through this!"

Ronon laughed, clapped Rodney hard on the shoulder, and said, "That's because I was always a predator, McKay."

Rodney didn't like this answer. He looked at John. Rather, he glared at John.

John shrugged. "It's true. I went through the same thing for about a year after I changed."

"A year?" Rodney echoed. The decibel level went up a few notches. "A _year_? Unacceptable! Do you have any idea how distracting this is? Every time a rabbit or a squirrel scampers by, all I can think is, 'Look, a snack'!"

John grinned brightly. "They are snacks."

Rodney let out a noise of disgust and stomped off ahead of them. "The first time I find myself unable to resist eating a small, furry, defenceless animal, you're gonna be the one to hear all about it, Colonel," he called back.

***

 _You torture yourself every day, John._

***

Where in the hell had Kolya and his men found chains and manacles that could hold a wolf? This time at least they didn't have that damned sedative--or a Wraith. John looked up at Kolya. "I _killed_ you. I ripped you open with my own teeth. You're dead."

"Did you?" Kolya said, not even bothering to look at John. "Apparently you were mistaken."

"I won't be this time." John struggled against his bonds. "This time I'll make sure." A growl started low in his throat. He struggled harder.

He couldn't break free.

"I'd encourage you not to waste your strength, but to be honest, I don't particularly care if you do," Kolya said.

John growled louder. He was sure he could get out of his bonds if he changed into a wolf.

Why couldn't he change?

"It's a fascinating metal, isn't it?" Kolya said. "You see, the problem with the sedative that keeps you from changing is that we have to keep injecting it, on a constant basis. We have to get close enough to do it, and that's proven... difficult, on a number of occasions. We've been able to infuse this metal with the same compound that's used to make up the sedatives. Constant contact, constant level of the drug. No slipping your bonds," he finished.

John growled. "How did you get here?"

"The same way as we always have, Colonel Sheppard," Kolya said, finally turning to focus in on John. "You put your faith in the wrong people. People who can be bought, or... convinced."

"I'm going to eat you," John said, savagely, "and nobody's going to be able to stop me."

Kolya looked at John, and smiled.

Right before he backhanded him across the face.

John spat blood into the dirt.

Blood.

He still tasted it. He wasn't healing the way he should.

Kolya stood in front of him, taking the gloves he was wearing off to check his hands for damage. "You know... you are quite possibly the most stubborn man I have ever known."

"I'm a wolf."

He slid his glove back on and punched John again. "No... it's more than that. What you can tolerate, what you can put up with... it's beyond reckoning. I'll admit, I'm impressed, John. What's your secret?" Another punch, splitting his lip open.

More blood. John was bleeding. "I'm married to Rodney McKay," he snapped. "You'd be amazed what someone could put up with after that."

Kolya laughed. Apparently that was very funny. "Well... now so much makes sense," he said, driving his knee into John's solar plexus. "I don't believe you were married the last time I saw you. Congratulations, John."

John coughed, bent nearly double. He lifted his head a moment later. "You owe me a wedding present," he gasped out.

"You know... you're right," Kolya said, leaning in closer, but just out of John's reach. "How about McKay's head on a stick?"

John snarled and tried to lunge forward, teeth snapping on air. "If you touch him, if you hurt him, I will hunt you down and destroy you, I swear, I will dedicate my life to ending yours."

The restraints held, and John didn't even come close to reaching Kolya. "I think that you're dramatically exaggerating the amount of time that you're going to have left alive to be able to accomplish that goal," he informed John, before he straightened up again.

John glared up at him. "What are you doing here, Kolya? What do you want this time?" he demanded.

"I want you dead, John," Kolya said bluntly. "But before I do that... I'm going to take away everything, and everyone you love, while--as usual--you fail to protect them."

"No," John said, "no--you can't reach the city. You can't touch them."

"I have your ship," Kolya said, gesturing in the direction of the Puddle Jumper. "And I have you."

"You think I'd ever, ever take you to the city?"

Kolya nodded to one of his soldiers, and was given a knife. "I think I don't need your consent to make it happen."

John hadn't wanted to, but he screamed.

***

 _You torture yourself every day, John._

He sat on the floor against the edge of the bed, knees drawn up, elbows on them and his head in his hands. "And I just couldn't change into a wolf. The pain of was so _real_."

Rodney was quiet for a few moments, and then he gently tugged John's hands down, first one, then the other. "It didn't happen," he murmured. "He didn't torture you. He didn't cut off your hand."

"It felt like he did."

"I know," Rodney said, rubbing at John's hands. "So, I'll keep telling you, or reminding you, until it doesn't feel quite so real any more."

"It felt real. Smelled real. I didn't want Woolsey to know how much it--" John lifted looked at Rodney. "He threatened you."

"Of course he did," Rodney said, jaw tightening a bit. "Threatening me--or someone threatening you--is a pretty predictable response from our enemies."

John swallowed. "I know, but. He--it--"

Said something to John. Something that was true. Something that hit home and hit home hard.

 _You torture yourself every day, John._

Rodney frowned. "John?" he said quietly. "What is it?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. C'mere."

Rodney shook his head right back. "Uh uh. Who do you think you married--out with it," he demanded.

"It's nothing, Rodney."

"Yeah, I can see how nothing it is." Rodney could wait him out.

John tried to glare. It came off a bit more as a pout.

Rodney leaned in and bit his pouting lip. "Who's more stubborn?" he reminded John. "Come on."

John tilted his head back again. He stared up at the ceiling. "I'm tired."

Rodney sighed. "You don't have to keep it all locked up in here, you know that?" he said, placing his hand square against John's chest. And yes, obviously, he was being metaphorical, which wasn't his strong point, but it worked with John. "Even if it's not me, you've got people you can talk to. People who will listen. Okay?"

"I know, Rodney." John closed his eyes. "I can't right now."

"Okay," Rodney repeated. "It's okay," he said. "John? Look at me."

John didn't move. He clenched his hands into fists.

He reached for John's hands again, holding on tightly. "It didn't happen," he murmured. "It wasn't real."

John decided, once upon a time, that he wasn't going to let anyone use his family against him ever again. And yet it happened even in his own imagination. They were a weakness. There was a reason that he'd only ever been married once. Seldom took lovers. Never let anyone get close. He cared too damn much and he could never save them. Couldn't keep them safe.

It didn't matter that Kolya hadn't been real. The pain was. He knew the pain was real.

He'd never held any illusions that there weren't things out there that could hurt wolves. Even before he'd found out about the Stargate--about Goa'uld and Jaffa and Ori and Asgard and everything else--he knew that there were creatures who lurked in the shadowy places of the world that could harm a wolf.

Hell, a good friend of his had crossed just the wrong witch once. That was all it took. Once.

One time, and it could all be over. He might never see any of them ever again.

He got suddenly to his feet. Paced angrily to the door, and turned and looked at Rodney.

Rodney was sitting there, watching him. Unafraid, despite John's anger. "John," he said, very softly.

"No," John said, suddenly.

Mistake. All of it. Coming here. Falling in love. Finding a mate. Friends. Family. Pack.

"John," Rodney said again, more firmly this time. "Look at me."

John turned. Looked at Rodney and didn't say a word.

"He's dead," Rodney said. "Kolya's dead, and you're letting him--all of them--win."

John leaned against the wall. He stared at Rodney for a long, long moment. Then sank down to the floor again.

Rodney crossed the room and settled on the floor in front of John. "The way they get to you--the way they always get to you. It's by threatening the people you love," he said softly. "You even do it to yourself now. It's become instinct. And that's when you pull back. That's when you won't look at me, why every truth has to be pried out of you. Because the closer we get to you, the closer you get to us. And the more leverage they have."

John's gaze was haunted. Rodney was right; Rodney knew him too damn well. "It should never have happened," he said. "Any of it."

Rodney leaned in closer, his expression unreadable. "Tough," he said, right before he up and slapped John upside the head.

It hurt a little more now when Rodney hit him. Got his attention; made him angry. John growled, grabbed Rodney's wrist, and took him to the floor. Instinct. He didn't apologise. Alphas don't apologise.

Rodney didn't apologise. He rarely did, and he wasn't sorry, anyway. "Tough," he repeated. "That's life, Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard. Life means pain, and it means loss, and it means being afraid that the people you love are going to die. It means that sometimes they do. I love you, even when you're being a completely stubborn _ass_ , and you love me even when I'm insufferable and right. That's how it works. You still think it shouldn't have happened? That we'd be better off if you hadn't gotten us all 'invested' in you, is that it? Well, you're an idiot."

"You should have been a trauma counsellor, McKay."

"I know, sometimes I really think I missed my calling," Rodney deadpanned. "You are being an idiot. It's well intentioned, but that doesn't make you any less an idiot. What did your brain tell you when it was being Kolya that's got you flipping out like this? No, I'm sorry--I was willing to go with the 'not ready to talk about it right now' thing, but we're past that now."

"I'm not flipping out," John protested.

Rodney hit him again.

"Stop it!" John shouted.

And Rodney hit him again. It wasn't his usual tactic, but it kept John from shutting down. "See? This? This is real. You're back in the real world, where I bother you until you stop being an idiot and tell me what's going on. You are not getting rid of me," he said. It wasn't a question; it was a pure and simple, absolute fact. "I plan to be around and bothering you for a very, very long time. You are legally bound to me by the constraints of two cultures, and in case you forgot? I even made you a Canadian when you weren't looking. Now shut up with what you're saying and say what you're not saying."

"I--you--I don't remember applying for Canadian citizenship."

"Happy birthday."

"Dammit, Rodney." John drew his knees up again, leaned his head against the wall, and fell quiet.

"It'll be dual--relax," Rodney said, settling down with John again. Although that wasn't what John was fussing about, obviously.

John leaned against him. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Okay. Apology accepted," Rodney said. "Still not an answer."

"God you're stubborn."

"Information already collated. What else've you got?"

"I don't--can we leave it?"

Rodney shook his head. "Nope. I'm your trauma counsellor," he reminded him.

"Fuck." John banged his head back against the wall. "I'm torturing myself."

"Well, it wouldn't be so bad if you'd just _say_ it!" Rodney said, trying not to sound exasperated.

"I did!"

"You..." Rodney frowned, looking confused. "Oh. _Oh_ ," he murmured. "You're... oh. Was he--it--right?"

"It was my own damn brain, Rodney."

"Well, yes, but it's confusing," Rodney said, frowning. "Was it true?"

"Of course it was."

Rodney reached out again, holding John's hands. "Why?" he said softly.

"Can we please stop talking?"

Rodney shook his head. "No... no, John. I'm not making you do this again. We're here now. Talk to me now." Uncharacteristically for Rodney, his voice was soft, almost gentle.

John looked at him. "I'm not good at talking."

"Yes, one of the things that you and Ronon and dare I say, Lorne, have in common, besides an unhealthy enjoyment of exercise. Please, try."

"What should I say? I've been around long enough to collect a lot of guilt."

"Yes you have," Rodney agreed. "And you hang onto it more than most people, more than most wolves, and more than most Alphas."

"How many Alphas have you met?" John asked.

Now here, Rodney actually had a bit of an advantage. "Generals Hammond and O'Neill," he said smugly.

"Yeah, well, those old wolves... they're..." John didn't know what to say.

"Responsible for the deaths of a lot of people," Rodney said. "And when General Hammond retired--when he finally decided to stop--it was to spend more time with the people he loved. Not less. A lot of people are dead because of you, John. A lot. And because of me," he added. "But we've saved people too. We've made a difference. Dare I say, we've brought hope, to be ridiculously sappy."

And if John didn't give a damn, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much. He knew that. Maybe it's what made him human--and wolf. "Thanks, Rodney," he said. "I'm better now."

Rodney gave him a look. "Do _not_ make me start hitting you again," he said. "One of these times, I might actually hurt you, and you'll feel pretty stupid."

"You've given me a lot to think about," John said. "Thank you for that. But right now--I don't know what else you want me to say."

"You still, after all of this, haven't told me why you torture yourself. Do you know that?" Rodney said.

John suddenly sprang to his feet. "Hey, look, a bed! I think that might be where I sleep." He walked past it and into the bathroom.

"Hey--hey!" Rodney protested. He quickly followed John.

John already had his shirt off and toothbrush in his mouth.

"You're impossible," Rodney said. "You're absolutely impossible. And stubborn. I'm starting to think that you're more stubborn than I am, but no, no no, I am not giving up that particular title."

John spat toothpaste. "I'm done, Rodney. I'm not talking about it anymore."

Rodney glared at him a few moments, and then--out of nowhere--he smiled. A smug, 'aren't I so very clever' Rodney McKay smile. And he turned and walked out of the bathroom.

John let out a sigh of relief. He left his clothes in a pile on the floor--everything needed to be washed anyway--and wandered back out to their room to crawl into bed.

Bed. Where he slept. Where Rodney sat, square in the middle, blocking John off from sitting down. "I'm being extremely annoying," Rodney said. "I'm pushing you to talk about something that you don't want to talk about--at all. And if I was any other wolf, I'd have gotten my ass kicked by now."

John gave a growl of annoyance. "I could still kick your ass."

Rodney smiled. "I know," he said. "You could. And you might. And you might pin me up against the wall, and growl at me, and we might yell until we're both hoarse." He leaned forward. "But what you're not going to do--what you're never going to do--is turn around, and walk out that door. Even if it means that I might die someday, or you might lose me. Because before, when you said it never should have happened? You might be right about that part," he admitted. "But every day--every single day, the same every single day that you torture yourself--you're grateful that it did."

John stared at him for a long, long moment then sat down on the bed with Rodney. "I'm sorry. For... being difficult."

"You are difficult," Rodney said. "Very difficult. But you know what?" he said, bumping John's shoulder. "I'm not walking out that door either."

"Well. Okay, then." John stifled a yawn.

"So... you look like you're up for some really high intensity shenanigans," Rodney said, rubbing his hands together. "Maybe a run around Atlantis? First one to get to the furthest pier wins a jell-o cup?"

John flopped over onto his side, even as he turned into a wolf and hid his nose under his tail.

"Oh, now that is _just cheating_!"

***

Life went on, as life did, in the Pegasus Galaxy.

John and Rodney argued; laughed; fucked; made love; mourned; celebrated. Saved lives. Defeated Wraith. Howled at the moon. Ran by the pier.

Teyla and Lorne watched Torren get bigger and bigger by the day. He'd be off to Pegasus College in no time.

Ronon and Jennifer broke up weekly. At this point, John thought it was all for show and for the make-up sex.

(He tried it with Rodney, but Rodney wouldn't play.)

And Woolsey? Well, Woolsey was theirs now, too. Not that John would ever, ever tell him that.

Life went on, as it did, and for once? For once in five years, nothing monumental happened--until it did. John really knew he shouldn't have become comfortable with anything.

When the Ancients took Atlantis from them, John and Rodney were separated; Rodney at Area 51, John at the SGC. And looking out at the Golden Gate Bridge, John couldn't help be worried that they'd be separated again. That was the American military for you.

Wolves were warriors. They were survivors. They'd learned that to survive, they had to adapt. Change. Grow. There were traditions--many of which John tended to ignore--that they held on to and defended fiercely. John had been around long enough to know just how quickly things could change in a century.

But wolves had been around longer, so much longer. Perhaps since the beginning, hidden, hiding, alongside the witches and the fae. Perhaps a gift--one last gift--from the Ancients, to protect them from whatever horror came to Earth. Strong enough to face Jaffa in land battles; strong enough to stare down the seemingly endless armies of the Ori.

But not strong enough to keep a same-sex mated pair together in the face of humanity. Damn its scruples, its puritanical ideals, its black-and-white philosophies. John knew they weren't all like that, deep down, the same way not all werewolves or witches were alike. But it was staring down the past and the possibilities of the future that made John wonder why they just didn't take complete control.

Probably because in the grand scheme of things, they were outnumbered.

***

Night had fallen.

John was out on a balcony, leaning against the railing and looking up at the night sky. Familiar, yet suddenly alien. His skin itched, but it wasn't the call of the moon.

Ronon had called Atlantis itself 'home'. Of course it was home; it was where they all belonged. But would they be allowed to stay? Would they be allowed to carry on with the lives they'd known?

They'd come so far.

He'd found a purpose, a home, a family, a pack. Earth was saved, but the rest of John's life felt like it was in shambles.

Earth was saved, but it wasn't home.

He closed his eyes. _Rodney_. He opened them again but didn't turn; he didn't even move, not when he felt the steady, comforting heat of Rodney's body right up against his own. Rodney'd been the one to call to John. He was fire and he was passion and he stood up to John in ways that no one else really would. He stood up to the soldier and the wolf. To his own alpha.

John figured they'd come this far. Time would tell. He turned his head and pressed his face against Rodney's neck, growled at him, bit playfully.

No matter where they were, John needed Rodney, with his crooked smile and his hands and his eyes. Rodney, who was brilliant and brave and arrogant and anxious.

John slipped his arm around Rodney's back and tucked him in nice and close, biting, growling, drinking in the heat of Rodney's body. They'd come so far. All the way back to Earth, with their wonderful, wondrous, city. Their home.

Still: Pegasus called, loud as the moon.

 

 _The End_


End file.
